It’s nighttime in New Mexico and the wagon full of dead soldiers is making its way toward Hagan. Bobby and TK are sitting atop the front edge of the wagon. TK looks back and sees Marcus Flynt sleeping with a gunshot wound to the belly atop the dead bodies.

Look at that Confederate piece of shit.

I’d rather not. He’s weird.

You can say that shit again. He was going off about some grave before I started dragging his dead weight to the wagon.

That’s weird. I was going to tell you about what he said to me. Sounded like bullshit, to be honest. There's no way this guy knows what he’s talking about.

Well, let’s fucking have it.

He said something about buried gold.

No-goddamn-way! He was fucking going on about a grave with the name “APEX” on it.

I bet that’s where the gold is.

Fuck, man, I have to take a piss.

TK takes off his cowboy hat and smacks the driver of the wagon.

Hold up, mother fucker. I have to take a piss.

The driver slows the wagon and TK jumps off.

I might as well take a piss now so we don’t have to stop again.

Bobby hops off the wagon knocking TK’s flask onto the ground.

We should probably see if the dying dude needs to piss.

Fuck’em. He can piss himself.

TK finishes taking a piss, turns around, and sees Marcus Flynt into the darkness.

I hope you fun into some fucking Indians, ya fuck!

Bobby shakes it once, turns around without putting his junk back in his pants yet, wait, now it’s back in his pants. TK looks over at Bobby.

Where’s that fucking idiot going?

The opposite way from the gold. So… Who cares?

Good point.

TK and Bobby give their signature no-look fist bump before climbing back on the wagon.

The shot of the wagon fade to Nickle Eyes who is seen whistling an old timey tune as he hunkers down next to an open flame atop a few logs in what seems to be a relatively forested part of New Mexico. The mangy-beard outlaw is holding a can of beans over the open flame with just his hand trying his best not to burn himself, but not really caring if he does. A few rabbits can be seen running across the bottom of the screen as a few hummingbirds soar across the top. I wonder what’s making all the wildlife flee?

I fucking love beans.

Nickle Eyes lets loose a wicked nasty fart that literally produces a noxious cloud of green gas behind him. This isn’t CGI; this is just one of the many tools in his arsenal.

Damn it, Charlie! That’s not in the script.

Nickle Eyes carries on, unperturbed by Barney’s sudden breakage of character- just like the wild bastard always has. Once the beans are heated thoroughly Nickle Eyes takes the can over to a little table he has set up out in the middle of this small woodlands area. That table, of course, being the bloody carcass of a grizzly bear. Nickle Eyes pours the hot beans atop the dead animal’s body before pulling a big fork out of his pocket and literally stabbing the animal’s ribs. The outlaw’s fork is able to pull off a good bit of hairy flesh mixed with beans. Nickle Eyes brings the fork up to his mouth and is just about to take a bite when, all of a sudden, he hears a gun cocking behind him.

Ayyhh thuur boy, whudya doin in these hur woods?

Nickle Eyes looks over his shoulder and sees that suddenly, a three awful people have rolled up on him with their horses. They all look (and for the most part, talk) pretty indistinguishable from each other. Nickle Eyes shakes his head as he sees them, because he can tell from their gray uniforms and armbands exactly who these numbnuts are fighting for- and he’s awful, too.

I’m just out here eating dead animal’s, you know, as one does when they are hungry.

Yeaaaah….but why’d you put BEANS on it? You one of them silly prissy fancy UNION boys? We like being Chris Page’s slaves! He whoops us good like a proper daddy should!

Oh jesus fucking christ…look I hate the Trilogy Union as much, if not more than, you lot do. You know I tried to get myself a little personal brothel going over in M-Ass-acheezits with some blue-headed whores and they shut it all down with this nonsense slavery shtick. I wasn’t making slaves of no bitches, I was just dominating them like Chris Page dominates you boys. So with that said, can we just all agree to keep it cool and move along? I’m all outta nickels, boys, and I haven’t had a chance to rob a bank to get some more.

Well you look hurr, aite city boy? We are three of the finest loot-tenants in all of the confedrat’ chris page empeer’, mighty fine whoopin’ slaves for our master. And I think you might make a good whoopin boy for im’, too.

The bastard outlaw raises a skeptical brow.as he subtly moves his hand down towards his waist.

Oh? I’m not so sold on that one, Chief…

The two stupider-looking confederates scowl at Nickle Eyes, and that’s when the only somewhat competent confederate steps forward.

Okay now everybody let’s hold on. My name is Parker Veighn, and these here are my fellow slaves– Mack Lame and Xavier Faux. Now I just want you to know that service to our Dark Lord Chris Page isn’t so bad, and he treats all of his whooping boys very well. In fact, when he captured me, he threw me in the fighting pits he was helping manage and made sure that I was protected, and given top prestige! That was a classy move, you see, because I’m not actually very good at fighting. I mean, shoot sonny, you should see me try to fight a skinny little bald man who also doesn’t know how to fight, because that’s a really close fight! I almost lost to that guy, TWICE.

Nickle Eyes cocks his head to the side curiously.

You talm bout’ Janie Myst right now?

No, I’m talking about the Blue Flute

Nickle Eyes stands up and looks around for his horse, which should be here any minute now. Parker Veighn, of course, goes on and on forever nonetheless.

Now, after I’ve given you all that information, will you consider joining the Confederate Chris Page Empire as a premiere whooping boy?

I don’t think so, I don’t want to be underneath an Emperor.

Parker Veighn reaches into his coat and pulls out a recruitment pamphlet that’s way too big, like it just has way too many pages and too many words. It seems ironic, but maybe it isn’t, because don’t you expect this by now?

This 127 page pamphlet should clear up any confusion you have. You see, the Confederate Chris Page Empire is not run by an Emperor, that’s a mean lie spread by the Union. Chris Page is our duly-elected President!

Wait, so you people actually voted for that half-man?

Well no, by ‘duly-elected’ I mean that we all tithe 100% of our career earnings to him as dues, and he elected himself as President and spends those dues as he sees fit. But we’re not just fighting this war to support our President, out of a mixture of loyalty and contractual servitude. We are also fighting this war for gold! We’re all going to get our share of the treasures Chris Page finds in this wild west, just like I did in the arena fighting pits!

Nickle Eyes looks over to the other two cowboys, who are acting quiet, per usual.

Have you either of you two won any gold?

hhh no, not yet.

No…but I’ve had a lot, a lot of chances! Like A LOT!

Nickle Eyes looks at the three confederates then gently shakes his head. Then, he sees his pale white bronco riding towards him with a dead rat in it’s mouth. As the bronco runs, the rabbits and squirrels on the ground near it seem to be struck with decay. They grow deathly ill and immediately seizure to their graves.

I think I’ll be passing on this opportunity, boys. My ride is here.

Ye dun’t get a choice, yer a whoopin slav now! Yeee haw!

C'mere n let me tell pussident page that I capshad ya!

Nickle Eyes hops on his white bronco as it passes by him, letting out three shots from his sidearm as he does so! Unfortunately all three shots seem to miss, and the confederates start to give chase!

We gotta get him boys! We need to do whatever Chris Page says, and Chris Page said we need to finally get someone who knows how to fight!


The three confederates dig into their horses ribs and push them forward, after Nickle Eyes and his bronco. They don’t get very far, however, because all of a sudden a big tree branch falls from the sky, cutting off their path!

Ah dang it boys, his quick thinking got us! Quick, we need to go around the long way, we need to get him!

He wunt go far Parkey! This trail only leads one way!

And with that the chase is one, with Nickle Eyes and his pale white bronco of death, which is now eating a rat and galloping at the same time, dart through the woodlands on a small and narrow trail which apparently leads only one way. As Nickle Eyes rides fast and hard the scene gently fades out to one of our sponsors.


~~~~~


Your screen has been overtaken by clouds as a smooth comforting voice begins to speak.

Life is difficult, sometimes. Are you alone, lost, wondering what your place in life is?

That sucks.

If not, though, and you understand the tenets of ‘Do Unto Others Tenfold As They Have Done Unto You’, the idea that while society isn’t perfect, you shouldn’t stress being your best self, and that in the name of the our Bastardly Father, you too can conquer your enemies and send them fleeing, make their families cry, and take what’s theirs to feed yourself?

We see a megachurch. Well, it’s the shape of a megachurch, but it’s painted blood red and pitch black. “Holy Diver” by Dio starts to play. We see The Prophet of the Bastards, Charlie Nickles, in the parking lot. He’s not doing anything church related, it seems he’s tinkering around underneath the parked cars. Charlie slides out on a rolling board, exhaling some kind of foul smoke, grinning at the camera.

Oh, hey, didn’t see you there. We at the church of the Bastard understand what it’s like, to feel bored, frantic, and maybe even a little glum. Well, with the might and guidance of the Bastardly Father, I’ma sell the catalytic converters I’m finding today to get more drugs and a blowjob at the same time! Bastard be praised!

We see a beautiful meadow. A steer stands, grazing, when suddenly it looks up. As it does, Bobby lays the blunt side of an axe into its skull, crushing it. The animal drops dead instantaneously.

We at the church of the Bastard know, because we’ve been there. Shucks, there are people who, to this day, have nothing nice to say about me, and you know what? They’re worth less than Bessie here, because at least livestock means something.

Bobby struts over and raises the axe again, swiftly bringing it down onto the corpse of Bessie. He holds up a leg of the cow, rips the hide back like he’s peeling a banana, and takes a bite of the meat, raw. Blood drips from his mug as he smiles back at the camera.

Oh, Bastardly Father, we thank you for providing meat, blood, and bone, because that shit is keto and I’m not as fat anymore!

We see the interior of the church of the Bastard. It’s hazy from cigarette smoke, and loud due to the DJ making the music thumping. Cage dancers in black leather are almost everywhere, and in the pews, we see people actually enjoying life rather than the droll day-in, and day-out they have to deal with. Office jockeys, middle-management, holding on to a retirement plan people actually getting filthy and funky. At the altar, where the DJ is spinning, we see Thunder Knuckles pick up a microphone.

Ladies and gentlemen all Bastards alike, we gather here today to give praise to the Bastardly father! Yes, praise him!

Charlie, still dirty from being just outside stealing everyone's catalytic converters, saunters in holding a collection plate.

I looked into the Bastardly Father's eyes and he told me, he told me, to have you reach deep, deep down into your pockets, and fill this collection plate full! All we ask in return for the blessing of the Bastard Above is ten percent of any money you make, minimum, before taxes. So that we can buy personal jets, huge-ass mansions, and make contributions to political campaigns that promise to never make us shoulder any tax burdens, whatsoever. Come on down to our sanctuary! It’s a one-hundred-foot tall metal, slash, concrete idol to capitalism, and of course, the Bastardly Father, himself.

The camera zooms away from TK down the aisle, past Charlie with the collection plate, the packed worship zone, wading through the large hallways, and out the front door. Only to show the blood red and pitch black megachurch again.

~~~~~


As we come back from the commercial. TK and Bobby are just outside of Hagan, on a wagon full of dead bodies. Three Trilogy Union members approach the wagon on horseback.

Jared Leeto, here, highest ranking officer of the Trilogy Union. What do we have here?

Bobby and TK look at the dead bodies roughly the same time, before definitely back at each other at the same time.

We didn’t kill them.

Nope. We’re just two mother fuckers headed to Hagan for some cheap whores and booze.

Uh-huh.

Who the fuck are you?

Jason Change and this is Ned Kane.

Doesn’t matter, we hitch a ride with this guy.

Slapping the driver of the wagon Bobby belts out.

Tell them!

These boys are right, I’m collecting the bodies from the war.

It sounds so fucking creepy when he says it like that.

I know, right?

So that I can give them a proper burial in the nearest town. This, right up ahead, happens to be the nearest town. Hagan if I’m right.

It is indeed Hagan, sir. We’re stopping everyone coming into town looking for Confederate soldiers. Have you seen any?

TK looks back at the dead bodies.

Have you seen any living Confederate soldiers?

Actually, dick head, we did.

Where was he?

Chill out, chump Change.

Jason Change starts to move his horse closer giving a warning to TK. Bobby steps in.

Woah! No need to raise Kane, he went that way.

Bobby points in the opposite direction from which he ran off into the dark.

Thank you, sir.

Jared Leeto tips his Union hat at Bobby.

No problem.

Men! We ride like lighting plasma!

The three union members take off in the direction Bobby had pointed.

What a lame thing to say. “We ride like lighting plasma.”

Come on, Driver we’re almost into town, let’s go!

The driver flips his leads on the horse's back to continue on their journey to Hagan. A slightly imperfect transition occurs from the wagon to Nickle Eyes and his pale white bronco suddenly break free of the forest and back into the deserts of New Mexico, where they stumble upon three Trilogy soldiers! Nickle Eyes has to slow down and pull up the reins of his bronco to avoid running into them, headfirst. Nickle Eyes has never seen these Union soldiers himself, but the audience knows them well from their interactions with TK and Bobby Bourbon!

Get out of my damn way! They’re on my fucking heels, and they want to turn me into a sissy-bitch!

The three Trilogy Union soldiers look at Nickle Eyes in shock before they look between each other with determination. They know exactly who is after this cowboy. They all grab their firearms and begin flicking the safeties off, because Trilogy Union guns have safeties, because that’s just how they are.

Jesus Christ, did you hear me? Fucking move!

Nickle Eyes digs his heels back into his horse and has to try and slip through the three cowboys blocking the only path out of the forest. He is able to slip past them and ride through after some slow-moving friction, and his white bronco ends up kicking two of the Trilogy horses in the balls, forcing them to kick off their riders!

Nickle Eyes finally darts off, back down the road, but all this lost time has allowed the Confederate soldiers to catch up with him! The three whooping slaves ride out of the forest on another trail some quarter mile down the the treeline, and they all appeared to be covered in ticks and poison ivy! It looks like they chose a poor path to try and follow Nickle Eyes’ trailblazin’ way!


The bastard cowboy is riding towards the edge of the screen and the CCPE cavalry are set to give chase, but when the Union soldiers see the Confederates they put a stop to those plans! The two dislodged union soldiers quickly recover and begin rechecking their firearms. The two of them take kneeling positions as they start firing shots off at the CCPE slaves, and the trilogy soldier on horseback starts charging forward on horseback!

That’s when, suddenly, two MASSIVE armies appear out of either side of the forest! A huge CCPE army appears just behind the three Trilogy guys, complete with cannons and all. Likewise, a huge Trilogy Union army appears behind the three CCPE guys!


A shit ton of cannonfire and cacaphony clashes as cattleman and cartographers careen carelessly coursing cataclysm consicely. The confederate army confronts the capitalists in a less than civil manner. A bunch of dudes blow each other apart. They blow their heads off. They blow their asses off. Everyone is getting blown. Somehow, Nickel Eyes makes it through all this horse hockey, riding past a wooden sign pointing towards ‘Hagan’.

Meanwhile, Bobby and TK, with shovels in hand, make it to the Hagan cemetery and look for the grave “APEX”. They look around for a while and see all kinds of graves, which include; “Legend”, “Lycanna”, “Granger”, “Main”, and finally “APEX”. That's when the voice of Nickle Eyes could be heard yelling from an undisclosed distance, yet still being able to be heard.

You’re here for the gold!

TK instinctually yells back not knowing where the yell came from.

No shit!

He looks at Bobby confused as Bobby scans the area.

Where the fuck is that coming from?

Bobby smacks TK’s shoulder and points toward Nickle Eyes. TK yells back to Nickle Eyes

Where's Marcus Flynt?

Analheim.

Nickle  Eyes yells back from the undetermined long distance.

Do you mean Anaheim?

TK yells back.

Yeah, that’s what I fucking said.

Bobby yells back to Nickle Eyes.

I say we go help you find them.

Nickle Eyes ponders it for a moment but yells back.

That’s not the worst idea I’ve heard today. I ran into some-

TK yells to cut off Nickle Eyes.

Why don’t you just come over here so we don’t have to yell?

Nickle Eyes doesn’t like what he heard and yells back.

Why don’t you guys come over here?

Bobby yells at Nickles Eyes.

Because there are two of us over here.

TK looks at Bobby confused.

What’s wrong with this guy?

He seems cool.

Fuck it. Let’s go over there.

Nickle Eyes, TK, and Bobby all meet up in front of the grave marked “APEX”. Bobby is the first to realize it.

Well, we're here.

This is it… This is where the gold is buried.

Looking on to the grave TK wipes of his brow.

What are you guys waiting for?

TK wastes little time after that and begins to dig, as does Bobby. Nickle Eyes is waiting patiently wondering exactly how much gold Marcus Flynt actually buried. As the time goes by and the hole gets bigger, Nickle Eyes starts becoming more impatient.

He probably lied to you guys.

TK and Bobby pay Nickle Eyes no attention. That's when it happened, with a clinking sound at the bottom of Bobby’s shovel.

Oh, shit!

Bobby takes his shovel and pokes down into the earth again, another clinking sound. A smile forms on Bobby’s face.

I think this is it, boys!

TK drops to his knees and starts moving dirt with his hands. He eventually pulls up one half of the XWFs Tag Team Championships before tossing Bobby’s way. He moves some more dirt and finds the second pulling it up for himself. Bobby smashes the shovel into the dirt again but no sound, they've done it, they’ve found the Confederate gold.

All that, just for those, that’s not the gold I’m looking for.

Now that we have these succured. We might as well help you find Marcus Flynt.

Nickle Eyes helps Bobby and TK get out of the hole they’re in.

To Analhiem!

Charlie looks disgusted with the thought of someone naming a town after anal. Bobby knowing TK made a mistake corrects him.

To Anaheim.

Well, that makes more sense.

A shot of the three men leaving the cemetery at sun rides is the perfect place for this adventure to end. As so, your screen fades to the promo portion of this Bastard Net production.





Some more behind-the-scenes antics from the Brotherhood of Bastards. TK has an obnoxious grin on his face, Bobby is ready to tear into their opponents, and Charlie looks like he just rolled out of bed.

Knock. Knock.

Who’s there?

You might be a Bastard if…

You might be a Bastard if who?

You might a Bastard if you constantly show up Dolly Waters week after week.

Oh, shit, that’s like at least three quarters of the globe, who knew there were so many of us out there? Well, Dolly went and, well, had nothing of fucking note to talk about because she’s fucking terrified. Really, you quote me from damn near a year ago, bring up being Charlie’s partner from over a year ago, and being partners with TK over a month ago, do you have anything fucking new to bring to the table? I didn’t think so. Look, it’s okay, you peaked at thirteen, and we all fucking get it. “Hi, I’m Dolly waters, and the weather outside is cloudy, I saw a pair of sneakers at the store yesterday that were remarkable, and the Bastards are bad because if they weren’t around, maybe I’d look good!” Seriously, go fucking sit down and write your memoirs, because the way you’re going on, girlie, you don’t have a fucking future. I mean, I could pull a Dolly. I could pull all of Dolly’s accomplishments out of my ass, list them off, and act like I was actually doing something, but, well, that’s just the meanest thing I could do. I mean, it’s one thing to beat the shit out of someone, but to let them know it means nothing because they don’t mean anything anymore? Where’s the dignity in that? Where’s the honor in exposing a child to the truth, that the beating that you’re going to give them won’t help them, teach them, or save them, it’s just what I do as a Bastard? Ooh, y’all went off about how evil we were, and did you see how I brought up child abuse? That’s called “Bobby is more fucking creative” is what that’s called. Not that I’d hit a kid, unless Theo, Vinnie, and Jonathon were signing the check and we were in a packed arena, that is. Hold on, I know where I can exercise the past; being TK’s partner in the Margarita Mixer! Hey, TK?

What it do, Bobby?

Why is it we ran the fucking gammut in the Margarita Mixer and walked away OCW champs but you and Dolly didn’t?

The only fucking difference between the two was Dolly.

Well, imagine that! I mean, Dolly wanted me to imagine being in the Margarita Mixer with you, but I guess you scrambled her peanut a little too hard with your bat because I didn’t have to imagine, I just remembered!

It’s okay, most people don’t remember anything that has to do with Dolly.

I’m glad you said something, Charlie. How is lame ass hoe Dolly going to talk about anyone's Xtreme Championship reign? Wasn't the last time she held anything, a belt, her weight in a team event, was the Xtreme? That has to be over a year ago, right?

That sounds about right.

She dropped that shit faster than Ned Kaye too.

TK shakes his head in disappointment.

Wow, just fucking wow, she’s truly just rehashing everything she said against me before our Savage match. Like, goddamn girl, you’re talking about War Games like I didn’t try to enter, after the fact, as your buddy did. The powers to be didn’t want it but they wanted you to feel comfortable and gave you Thad. They knew that you’d feel better if he was there holding your hand while you got beat-the-fuck-down. You see, they don’t want BOB to be comfortable and we wouldn’t have it any other goddamn way. It makes us hungry. For fucks sake, If you were uncomfortable, you'd do what you always do half-ass everything you do and leave. Which…

TK looks at his Tambour Damier Cobalt Chronograph watch and pays specific attention to the date.

It’s about that time, isn’t it? Who knows maybe you’ll show back up off cue like you did in your promo with Vita against Bam Miller and Justin York. I hope you and the rest of the XWF fans around the world are paying attention, at least right now, because after this street fight and Relentless. I doubt Ol’ Dolly Waters sticks around. God knows she hasn’t done shit in 2022, while talking about everyone else's 2022, and taking credit for other people's successes. Christ, Dolly, for as much-

TK makes air quotes with his hands.

-“smoke” as you’re blowing you’d think you’d have something to back up your words with, but you don’t. You rely on your past while we look toward the future, through you. You, mam, are a goddamn non-issue. You should be lucky Jenny’s one of your partners because if she wasn’t you’d be the weakest link. Not saying that you’re not a weak link, because you fucking are, just not the weakest. I should know I had to carry your ass in the Mixer just like I said I would. I’m glad you pointed out that TNGB has already declared victory at Relentless, let’s face it you and Vita are having problems. Problems you had a chance to resolve but for lack of communication or poor timing, you two lovely “ladies” never got the chance to figure it out. I bet Vitas is pretty pissed that her idol is getting punked by a man that’s never beat her. Shit, I would be. I see you, Vita.

Never losing his asinine smile, TK keeps pushing on.

I do find it funny that Mark sat there and flat out said he needed to find a gullible idiot to fill War Criminal’s role. Well, luck fucking has it the first person to come along was none other than Dolly, the afterbirth of a Muddy Waters mistake.

TK takes a step back allowing Charlie to step forward to make Dolly wish she never said a single Bastard's name.


Dolly Waters never did show any fucking proof for that lil ‘Doctored’ line, did she? That’s just like classic Dolly. Make up some outlandish, hard to believe shit, and then when you get called on it just fold that hand and pretend like it didn’t happen! That’s just so Dolly, ain’t it? I mean, wasn’t it her who was out here decrying ME for counting my heavymetalweight and federweight reigns, and now she’s using her federweight reign as some sort of safety anchor against Bobby Bourbon’s attacks? The fuck is up with that shit, huh?

Charlie looks at his two friendly bastards with a shit eating grin as they scratch their heads in feigned confusion.

Dolly Waters finna’ turn to Dolly Streams once I make those tears cascade down her cheeks. I’m just curious, how much pain can Dolly Waters really take without breaking? Breaking in body, breaking in soul, breaking in mind. Isn’t that why she’s always leaving the company? She has never been able to handle the heat, and that’s why she likes to get out of the kitchen anytime it gets too hot.

She keeps her thermostat on 68 degrees all year ‘round.

Well, Dolly, you should already know by now that we Bastards are bringing all the flames and all the smoke your way tomorrow night. How are you going to stand against that? Are you going to stand on your lies, and go down easy just like they did? Or are you planning to make things hard for us, by giving us your best effort, by realling working out those dainty little limbs of yours.

Oh, we’re snapping them, for sure.

I hope you make it hard for us, Dolly. Hard for ME.

Charlie grabs his junk.

Like you promised to do in all those voicemails and text messages you keep sending me! Telling me how you’re gonna whoop some bastard ass, telling me how you’re a new icon, telling me how THIS TIME WILL BE DIFFERENT.

Dolly, my carnie child, this time won’t be any different at all. Bobby, Tee-Kay, and Charlie Nickles are still better than you ever have been or ever will be. You can take as much credit as you want for my Carnies run to the finals last year, but at the end of the day I put the team together. I crafted the strategy, I called the shots, and I put you in that position to win the X-treme belt. I was doing for you back then what Mark Flynn is doing for you now, ya hear?

But I guess that makes Mark Flynn your new daddy, doesn’t it?

Well Dollz, I sure hope you’re ready for the life of an orphan. It shouldn’t be too hard for you to adjust to it, after all, you’re already not wanted! Not here, or in the OCW. Dolly Waters isn’t even a passing fad- she’s always just passing through, always just fading away into the ether.

Ether?

ETHER.

Like Nas did to Jay-Z.

That’s something Dolly should know a good deal about, especially after her little back-and-forth with the bastards this last week. But still, I’m thinking ol’ Kentucky Waters is a few lead-infested brain shells short of a whole magazine, you get catch my drift? Dolly ain’t never been the type to learn, so she’s going to have to be taught, fist by fist, broken bone by broken bone.

Dolly Waters lost to Teekz’ one-on-one, she’s going to lose three-on-three to the Bastards tomorrow, and then shit, what fucking hope is there for her at Relentless? Those tag belts are as good as ours, as good as Bobby’s and Teekz’, cuz there ain’t shit someone like Dolly Waters can do to stop it! The Bastards are back on the rise, baby, and Dolly’s broken fucking neck is going to be our first stepping stone back to the land we were promised by our Bastardly Father.

TK makes a cross with his hands like the Cathloics do, kisses his hand when he’s done, and points to the Bastardly Father above..

You can call me Moses!

TK looks over at Bobby again.

Does he really want us start calling him Moses?

Bobby shakes his head no.

Because I’m going to split these WATERS apart and make em fucking bleed, baby, so that way my boys can run on through with no problems at all! You know they call me the Prophet of the Bastards for a reason, right? THIS IS FUCKING REASON, BABY!

TK just can’t fight the urge not to do another Knock knock might be a bastard joke.

Knock. Knock.

Who’s there?

You might be a Bastard if…

You might be a bastard if who?

You might a Bastard if you shaved a bitch.

Bobby, TK, and Charlie raise their hands then cascade into a high five.

Jesus, then there’s Jenny, and given your last promo, and again, Mark, step in and put the foot down like you did with Nor’Kriminal, that hairless chihuahua is making you look bad, but Jenny’s last promo had me wondering; Jenny, are you on Meth?

No offense, Charlie.

None taken!

Jenny, why are you even talking? You sound, well, like an absolute imbecile. You’re undefeated since getting your head shaved? Funny, I’m undefeated since scalping your goofy ass. Are you butthurt that you can’t get a sponsorship deal through a restaurant chain so you hyped mine? If you want, after this match, maybe you can find something you’re actually good at and get a job at Burger King. Not in the drive-through, for the love of the Bastard put the microphone down, maybe Flynn has a type because every time more than ten people have to listen to you it goes against the Geneva Convention for crimes against humanity’s sanity. Fuck, you went and even insulted Rhode Island, a place where there are plenty of paying XWF fans you felt like ostracizing because, well, you don’t fit in anywhere yourself and you can’t see how anybody fits in with anything as such. There’s a word for that, Jenny, it’s called ‘sociopath’, which is you to a tee. Other than that, nice rehashes all around from you. Saying Bobby is hit or miss; so far sweetie, this year alone, against you I haven’t missed. Bragging about the talent you faced, ooh, ahh. You’ve done that every fucking match we’ve had this year, why are you trying the same old shit in promos, are you trying to make people catatonic? Well, you hyped how you had matches with Garry “Two R’s”, and if the dude had any talent wouldn’t he still be here? How shitty do you have to be to get fired from OCW, a place so desperate for talent they’d hire you? Nah, just kidding, they’re not that desperate. You also hyped, well, having matches with me! Heh, Jenny, you’re really going to come out and pout about how I’m this, and I’m that, when at the root you just want to kiss my ass and tell me how awesome I am because I whooped your ass? You were wrong about March Madness; TK was in the tourney, but past that, yeah, it was full of nobodies. Including you. Fuck, after this, you can go to Madness, I hear they have someone running around calling themselves the Bastard King, maybe that’s the guy you should face instead of the real one.

I just want to come out and say it right now, we’re bullies.

The other two Bastards laugh.

Yep, we’re big meanie heads, I'm sure the Standards and Practices team looooooved that one, Jenny. You’re already setting into motion their ideal world, no dick energy. Up next Jenny Myst is going to get on Tic Tok and tell all her foul mouth feminist followers that they should stop dating ugly men while being ugly herself. That they don’t need a man, that is, until they do, cue Mark Flynn. The white knight that’s going to help Jenny and Dolly reach that next level… Like he did for War Criminal.

TK scoffs at these silly bitches.

Just like the other women in this match Jenny wants to talk about my Xtreme Championship reign that lasted four months. Which is more time than Jenny has held gold since being a member of the Brotherhood of Baddies. Your fifteen minutes of fame is over Jenny. What I find really funny is she when she was sparking off at the mouth, like she had a clue, AFTER saying I needed to hold a singles championship without the help of my friends. Which is it, cunt? I'll answer that for you, like you and most things that fall from your mouth, it doesn’t matter. You’re about as worthless as a three-dollar bill, a fake, a phony, a fraud. I guess, the only real question I have for Jenny Myst at this point is: Don’t you have someone to go give aids to? To be fair, it’s only a few weeks since you've given Mark and Dolly flu-like symptoms: fever, sore throats from trying to carry you, and fatigue… Oh, the fatigue, Dolly’s already out of material and Mark’s repeating his whole shit again. “I beat the bastards a thousand times.”

TK rolls his eyes again like he will every time Mark Flynn lies about who he’s fought.

Because your disease-ridden ass came in all asymptomatic without knowing you had full-on AIDS and gave it to them. Once this is all over Mark will lose all this dead weight, have a fever or gain night sweats thinking about his Universal Championship match, be fatigued from carrying you two only for a loss come Warfare, and have to deal with this recurrent infection for the rest of his life.

Charlie holds out his arm, places his hand on TK's chest, and stops TK to get a piece for himself.

The line between insanity and stupidity is as thin as Jenny Myst’s completely hairless frame. Insanity is sticking a fork in an outlet just to feel a shock, just to feel something. But Jenny Myst just puts her fork in the socket because Mark Flynn told her to… That’s a pretty big difference, ain’t it?

We can chalk that up to stupidity.

A crazy Nickleman might say some fake shit just to psyche his opponents out and get under their skin, just to cause some more cheap heat. A crazy Nickleman might tell everyone he’s going to retire- but only if his opponent slits his throat with a broken table shard. A crazy Nickleman might sign up for every show, for every promotion, just so he can fight as often as he can, just so he can drop as many bodies as humanly possible.

That’s why we love you, Charlie.

A stupid bald bitch like Jenny Myst won’t do anything like that. People get stupid and crazy confused, people have told me that Jenny’s ‘gone insane’, ‘went crazy’... But really that couldn’t be further from the truth. The only thing that happened to lil Miss Broken Myst is that she became crazy stupid after receiving one-too-many Devil Hook Drops to her head! She’s losing brain cells by the second, and baby, they’re just fucking kill themselves at this point, kind of like everyone wishes Jenny would do!

Charlie runs his pointer finger across his neck.

Myst really came out here and said that she’s held more championship belts than me, Bobby, and Teekz’ combined… Which is crazy, because I’ve held 12 XWF championships, over TWICE the amount Jenny Myst has, all on my own! So what the fuck is this stupid whore even trying to say? Did Mark Flynn force feed her that line without even checking it for accuracy- or does Jenny Myst just not know how good the bastards really are?

He definitely hasn’t been up to snuff this go around that’s for sure.

That’s crazy.

The other to Bastards agree by nodding their heads.

How could she not?

TK starts to say something before boddy whispers in his ear that it’s rhetorical.

A, I’m undefeated against her. B, Bobby Bourbon literally JUST whooped her ass and took the only Gold she’s known all year. C, Gold that was, again, GIVEN TO HER BY ME!  And, just to be clear, she was only given that gold BECAUSE I KNEW SHE’D FUCK IT UP! And make me look even better! Because fuck, when a damn near 200 day reign is placed in the history books between a fifteen day reign and a 28 day reign… Well, how thick and massive does my reign start to look then?

Charlie chuckles as he elbows his fellow bastards, much to their mild annoyance.

You know when Bobby got Goldi back for the boys, she told me my reign was a lot thicker than Jenny’s, a lot more massive too. But we all knew that. The thing is, Goldi also told me a little secret about Jenny Myst. Goldi told me that she never once actually TALKED to Jenny Myst, and that supposed ‘crazy’ Jenny was all a motherfucking act. I’M the only human on earth who can talk to precious lil’ Goldi, she said so herself. Only my heart is attuned to it, or some kinda bullshit. And Jenny’s heart? Well, Goldi told me it just doesn’t exist. No wonder she never put her heart into either of those title reigns, she couldn’t have if she tried!

But me? I put a whole lot of people’s hearts into MY TV title reign!

Charlie’s toothless grin is enough to get on anyones nerves.

I mean let’s just run down the list, because it seems everyone on Jenny’s team has forgotten what I’ve done in just the last twelve months…

Charlie holds out his pointer finger on his right hand to count.

I beat Betsy Granger for the TV championship of live PPV for you all to see.

He extends his middle finger as well.

I defended my gold against the reigning superstar of the month, Micheal Graves, because even LOSING a championship match against me can qualify you for more title shots up the card!

Charlie's ring finger is now extended.

I defended my gold against living XWF legend, Centurion.

His pinky finger is now out with the rest to make four.

I defended my gold against the #1 wrestler on Thursday nights, bleeding Rubes.

Charlie’s thumb is now in play, five, he needs his other hand.

I defended my gold against REIGNING XWF UNIVERSAL CHAMPION, Raion Kido, and I won that match with 8 minutes left on the timer!

Charlie using his other hand now put out his pointer finger.

I ended Jim Caedus’ XWF career, with just a few mean words and a few nasty glares.

Just like Charlie did before he extends his middle finger.

I defeated Jason Cashe,

Charlie has given up on the visual aids hoping that Jenny, Dolly, and Mark can figure it out on their own.

I defeated that North Korean supersoldier that Mark Flynn trained, I fought ALAS more times than Doc ever has, and each time, I came closer to winning than Doc ever did. I put ALIAS through so many months of torture and pain that eventually, even the guy I beat in 7 minutes for the TV belt was able to clean up my scraps!

Scraps are all us Bastards leave them.


What more does a motherfucker need to do to get some respect around here? What more does a motherfucker need to do to convince Jenny Myst that she just can’t fucking hang? I’m just a different caliber weapon than Jenny Myst, I’m a .50 cal that can put you down for a lifetime with just one round. Jenny Myst is that broken .22 that just can never seem to find her target.

I mean, that’s to say she was actually shooting to hit a target. I believe she was just spraying hoping something landed. Unfortunately, for her, nothing did.

Jenny and I just aren’t the same, never have been, never will be.

You can say that again.

I’m crazy, like Charles Manson meets Moses and becomes a blood mage.

TK looks over at Bobby.

He’s a wizard?

Jenny’s stupid, like anyone who’s ever brought a .22 to a .50 cal gunfight! She can’t fire her shots off as fast as I can, and when she does get em off, they just don’t hit like mine do! Jenny couldn’t even beat DEMOS; my losing streak demon. So how the hell is she supposed to beat me? Just fucking think on that one for a minute. I’d love to hear a real answer, but since Jenny was too scared to even mention me in her promo, I doubt we’ll be getting one any time soon!

TK walks off screen as Bobby looks at him like, “what are you doing?”

Jenny Myst knows she can’t fuck with Charlie Nickles, her daddy, her dominator, and the man that gave her the TV title she so quickly lost, twice. That’s why she’s so scared to talk about me in those little promos of hers. But Jenny…if you’re scared to even talk about me… What do you think is going to happen to you when we meet inside that ring tomorrow night?

Charlie doesn’t skip a beat and continues.

I’m the crazy-ass-Nickleman who does anything he wants and everything for just for clicks. Jenny Myst is the stupid–ass-whore who tried my steal my whole shtick and take my M.O just to get clout, cutting herself with just as much glass as I, but only holding the gold for a fraction of the time. While earning, of course, NONE of the same respect.

Seems like a recurring theme from this team doesn’t it?

TK is feeling that itch, that itch to tell another Knock, knock you might be a Bastard joke.

Knock. Knock.

Who’s there?

You might be a Bastard if…

You might be a bastard if who?

You might a Bastard if you make Madison Dyson look stupid while continuously smacking Mark Flynn with “his own shit”.

Multi-tasking. Nice.

TK and Bobby give their classic yet never going out of style no look fist bump.

So, Mark, you seem pretty convinced of yourself and all; if it’s the Bastards you want, it’s the Bastards you’ll get, but maybe you’ve lost a step with your buddy Nor’Kriminal gone, because you’re just ripping off Dolly and bringing up shit from, uh it says two-thousand and eleven, but I think you mean last year, and that’s swell and all. Research my history all you want, this isn’t writing a fucking book report, this is pure as shit blood sport. What a fucking nerd. You’re right, we beat the fuck out of Borden. We beat the shit out Page, pretty sure he was there to remind you of all that, because he’s a mega-fucking-dork who brings up the past like it’ll save him, and it sure hasn’t, but he’ll tell you that partnering with me was way more worthwhile than taking you back and forth to soccer practice. We were B.O.B. The Brotherhood of Baddies. Us Baddies turned on other Baddies, and on that day, from onward, we were the Brotherhood of Bastards. See, we didn’t dump the dead weight by dropping them, we did so by dropping the name “Baddies”. You, however, picked it up and ran with it. Then you went and thought partnering up with Jenny Myst’s brain damaged self was the best thing you could do, or was it Page who thought that would work out? Either way, it isn’t.

For a man who prides himself on scrubbing the past, he sure forgets the details. He’d like everyone to believe that he and Criminal beat Bobby Bourbon and myself, THE MOST DOMINANT TEAM in XWF history more than once. It’s a good shtick and he’s made plenty of money doing it. Good for him.

TK gives Mark a miniature golf clap because Mark seems thrilled with himself.

The only problem with that is, that he hasn’t, and come Wednesday Night he’ll be reminded why he can’t. Even though somehow he managed to make Dolly and Jenny develop the personality of North Korean War Criminal in his far-fetched plot to infiltrate Bastard Net. I mean, they act like we don’t have security cameras. Idiots, everything you got from Bastard Net was there for you to get. In other words, you’re welcome. I’m glad we can continue to make you relevant.

TK rolls his eyes.

Come on, how is this guy going to say some shit to Charlie about being unoriginal? You know, since he wanted so goddamn badly to be like Micheal Graves, then turn right around, and want some Bastard Net material.

TK chuckles to himself while shaking his head.

It’s sad really, this is XWFs number one contender? Please, he’s nothing more than a hack that can’t even convince his partner that he… How’d he say it? Oh, yeah, DEVASTATED Robert Main.

The word devastated was given with the fervor of a spoiled child.

Yeah, you sure the fuck did, bud. You DEVASTATED him, just like you beat Bobby Bourbon and yours truly, how many times? Mark, I don’t think you know what the real world is, even though you preach that you live in it. I have to give you credit, you seemingly brought Dolly and Jenny into your cult of personality. Let’s face it when it comes to working with people, you’re truly shit. Your hand might guide them but as soon as they open their mouths, they fail you. Not like when you were with Criminal. No, no, you could have made that dumb fucker say anything you wanted, he was your toy. You could pull his string and your words could flow from his mouth. Dolly and Jenny on the other hand. You can only pull their strings and make them clap like monkeys in a zoo so many times before their words escape their mouths. Which, face it, has about as much substance as your second Tag Team Championship reign. Who’d you beat? The Other No Good Bastards, Another No Good Bastards, but never once the premiere grouping of Them No Good Bastards. I know that is a bitter pill for you to swallow but after our street fight on Warfare. Maybe, the doctors will give you another one that’ll be a little easier to get down your gullet for the pain. Charlie!

What’s up?

How dare you be the Bastard we all know you are and make Mark Flynn cry about you not ending your career!

The smirk on TK’s face says it all. Charlie looks to be all business.

Motherfucker, how many times do I have to say it? I was never going to end my career….he was supposed to do it! Promise you baby, I was going to end Mark Flynn’s career and make him go the exact same way as the dodo if given the chance. If I had that flightless chicken laying all bloody in the ring I woulda done him in just like I did in Dallas Marshall, just like I was expecting Mark Flynn to do to me, but I guess ol’ pussyboy just wasn’t hard enough to kill a man. Mark Flynn just doesn’t have balls like I do, the kind of balls that you can bounce off someone’s face and then force them out of a job.

Charlie rolls his eyes.

Oh but wait, according to Mark Flynn ol’ Chucklefucks don’t know anything about ending careers either. According to Marky Mark, Dallas and Lynx just ain’t two names worth braggin’ bout bangin’ on. I wonder if there are any other legendary names I’ve crossed out of this company that Mark Flynn might be forgetting….just like he forgot about Dallas and Lynx until I spoke their names…

Charlie Nickles scratches his head in feigned confusion before looking at his two bastardly compatriots.

Oh wait……what about JIM FUCKING CAEDUS?!?! AND THE BITCH HE STOLE FROM MARF?!?! AND HER FRIEND, BETSY-BOOP?!

Charlie is feeling as accomplished as Mark Flynn acts.

I ended all three of their fucking careers, full stop, no questions asked. Just ask them, if you can find even find em’ now! And when I say I ‘ended their fucking careers’ I’m not just clout-chasing, like Mark Flynn does with Corey and Main. I don’t just mean ‘I am the last person they fought in an XWF ring’, I ACTUALLY MEAN I ENDED THEIR XWF CAREERS! Mark Flynn is just like Jenny fucking Myst, clout chasing off my shit and biting my style to just to convince the fans that they’re dangerous too. Mark Flynn didn’t talk about ending no careers til’ The Nickleman did, he just saw that I got a pop for it and he wanted one, too. But ending someone’s career is a lot more than just being the last opponent on their contract.

Preach it, Charlie.

Ending someone’s career means being the reason they can’t step back into the XWF no mo’. That’s what I do to motherfuckers, THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT, when I say I end careers! I don’t need to do it in an XWF ring. I’m dangerous any-fucking-where you find me! I can end a career backstage, I can end a career on the toilet with my phone, I can end a career in line at the deli shop, I can end careers in my sleep.

TK once again looks over at Bobby.

He might actually be a wizard.

Basically what I’m saying is, I’m just a god damned problem in these streets. Mark Flynn might be right, he might be good in the XWF ring, and hell- maybe he can end careers there. But this match isn’t happening inside an XWF ring…this match is happening in my dirty streets! With overflowing garbage cans on the sidewalks, dislodged manhole covers, and overdosing bums on the corner- these streets are my home field advantage, baby! And on these streets, no snot-nosed mat technician like Mark Flynn can fucking touch me- cause there is no god damned mat! The only ‘mat’ there’s going to be tomorrow night is the Haz-Mat suits of the clean-up crew after I completely fucking BODY Mark Flynn from some 30 foot tall building, JUST LIKE I DID TO HIS GOD DAMNED TAG PARTNER!

Closing his eyes Charlie takes a breath, which allows TK to step up.

Make no mistake on September 14th the BROTHERHOOD OF BASTARDS will claim the lives of three unfit challengers. We’re going to paint the street with the blood of our opponents. While the fans in the arena are stuck looking at Chris Page ringside, holding Mark’s ball supporting underwear, sniffing it.

TK gives the middle finger to the camera for Chris Page.

I promise to grab anything I can laying around on the street to brutalize these fools. For four months I used everything at my disposal. Then, just like now, you call it anything you want, street fight, no holds barred, xtreme rules, who gives a fuck? This is just another day in the office for me. Leave’em mangled and move the fuck on.

Shaking his head yes because Dolly needs to move on, like every Blackwater that came before her, TK continues.

Dolly’s pressed because she wants nothing more than to have a “W” over me. Mark’s pressed because he has a superiority complex while not doing anything for himself. Jenny is pressed because her wig doesn’t fit right and looks absolutely ridiculous. We’ve already pressed these grapes and are turning them into fucking whine. The one thing Jenny and Dolly have in common but I am a little shocked that Mark took the bait. I sure hope Lameass Kidd-o is taking notes.

TK takes a step back as Bobby steps forward.

Brothers and sisters, we come to you in the hour of condemnation of three souls who dare blaspheme the name of the Bastardly Father. We have the unrepentant, who hath spilled his brother's blood in the name of hubris. Jenny and Dolly actually think they can trust Mark Flynn when he went and not only shattered the tag team division, spitting on the XWF Tag Team Championships like they were nothing, but proved he will turn on you for absolutely nothing. As much as those ladies want to say we're awful, we're not the reason you have to watch your back. We have the desperate, who will scream anything from her bald head to distract you from the fact she has never been that good. Jenny would sell either Dolly or Mark out for a chance to shine, and the whole universe knows that like the back of their hand. Shit, Jenny, tell you what; just don't come to the ring at Warfare and I will hand you the TV Title, just like Charlie did, because it isn’t like you're ever beating a Bastard to become champion. Truth hurts, feel it. We have the blindly ambitious, constantly chasing clout and glory. Dolly is the Corey Feldman of the XWF, was only relevant when she was a kid and has dipped into sad obscurity and telling stories of how she was victimized, we should just call Macaulay Culkin, Amanda Bynes, and Lindsay Lohan and put Dolly in a reality show with them where they can run around pretending to be famous again. Dolly would drop Flynn or Jenny at the drop of a hat if it meant just for a second of her glory days to come back. Brother Knuckles, will you lead up in prayer.

I would be fucking honored, Brother Bourbon.

TK bows his head along with Bobby, before Charlie bows his head he looks behind his shoulders to make sure no one is trying to sucker punch him. It’s time to lead the little Bastards at home, work, wherever they might be receiving the word of the Bastard.

Bastard on High, I pray that our opponents will realize YOUR authority in the streets of Anaheim as you use our bodies to inflict punishment. They do not pray for Your strength and power. We work together, with You in Our prayers, and Our determination to write our opponent's bleak future and the golden future of the Bastards. I will take this time to pray, Bastardly Father, for our opponent's blood to be spilled on the streets of Anaheim. Their desire to win will be broken through our prayers, and guided by Your hand to action.

Charlie is bobbing his head feeling the word of the Bastardly Father.

Teach them that Your hatred-filled actions will be their demise We reach our fans and bury our detractors with Your word. I thank You for remembering all of Our prayers. Your word strikes fear into our opponent's hearts. For when they hear Your word they will know that they are DOOMED. We shall show them revelation! The revelation of YOUR unlighted superiority.

The word of the Bastard on High is touching all the Bastards around the world.

We thank You, Bastardly Father,-

We do,

-for giving us the strength to end hope, cause chaos, and never forget who We are. We will prove without a shadow of a doubt that We are the premier group this or any other company has ever seen. In Your name, We will defeat this collection of mid to lower-mid talent and nail them to a metaphorical cross. For We fight a defeated foe. We will enforce Your authority and Your word on this earth. Our enemies plan a heist while they should be preparing for war. You, Bastardly One, have prepared us for a war that none of them were ready for. They are ill prepared, demoralized, and ready for the taking on September 14th.

Bobby raises his arms, basking in the glow of his vicious Lord.

For now I again I ask for you to show Dolly Waters a breakthrough, however, this time it's for courage. The courage to accept this defeat and move on.

Preach, Brother Knuckles, preach.

Not before asking you to teach us, oh, Bastard Above, how to hold our enemies up and dress them down, bit, by fucking bit. Thank You again for the unbridled power that You made available to us. In the Bastards'  name, We prey,

The Bastards three raise their heads at the same time.

A-fucking-men.










The Bad, the Bad, and the really fucking Bad










Starring:










Thunder Knuckles -------- himself










Bobby Bourbon -------- himself










Nickle Eyes -------- Charlie Nickles











Sheriff Lane -------- Vinnie Lane










Sheriff Pryce -------- Theo Pryce










Sheriff Ravin -------- Ryan Reynolds











Dully Waters -------- Chloë Grace Moretz










Marcus Flynt -------- Bryan Danielson










Janie Myst -------- Alexis Cabrera










Smokin Bob Williams -------- himself











Murky Waters -------- Daniel Whitney











Stagnate Waters -------- Delilah Johnson










Salt Waters -------- Josephine Reed










Shallow Waters -------- Gretchen Wilson










Burbling Waters -------- Dixie Caudill










The carriage driver -------- Chris Hemsworth










The wagon driver -------- Chris Pratt










Lawmen -------- Clint Eastwood, Sam Elliot, Jeff Bridges, and Kevin Costner










Judges -------- Mills Lane and Judge Reinhold










Jared Leeto -------- Hiroshi Tanahashi










Xavier Faux -------- Maven Huffman










Jason Change -------- Mark Briscoe










Parker Veighn -------- Glenn Matthews









Mack Lame -------- James Allen Cox










Ned Kane -------- Allen Neal Jones










Directed by -------- Barney Green










Executive Producer -------- Big Money Oswald









Produced by Bastard Net










Distributed by Bastard Net










Music -------- Dolores Blumpikens










Costume Design -------- Adi Gold










Filmed in Mexico

























Suddenly your screen lights back up to a door and the tune “Happy Trails” stops playing, as the door is kicked open. The camera peers into the room showing Marcus Flynt with his dick in his hand, pounding off, singing his own praises. The camera pivots to the doorway. Three familiar shadows are seen before they step into the light. It’s Nickle Eyes, TK, and Bobby Bourbon.

There you are. This is how you finish the job. It’s time for you to pay the River Styx.

Marcus Flynt isn’t even startled, he’s still jerking off to his own successes.

Don’t I know you two?

By the time Marcus Flynt gets out his final words all three men pull out their revolvers and unload them into him, gangland style. Marcus Flynt, hand still on dick, is jerking it as he falls off the chair in a bloody mess. With his last neurons being fired off in his brain, Flynt’s body starts to seize, ejaculate, defecate, urinate, and vomit- all at the same time. Nickle Eyes reaches into his pocket and pulls out two nickels as he steps toward the dying man. Nickle Eyes whistles a soft tune to himself as he flips the coins in the air. The camera zooms in on Nickle Eyes as he lays the coins over Flynt’s eyes before walking back to the Bastards. The camera stays on Flynt as you hear the Brotherhood leave as quickly as they came, with the bloody dead body being the last thing you see before the Bad, the Bad, and the really fucking Bad fades to black.