At CuntFest, Robbie Bourbon went to war with Engineer in a showstealer of a match for the Universal Championship.

He came up short, being blinded in the end by the nefarious black mist.

LIGHTS OUT

Cyberjaw, the man with the cybernetic jaw, stands beside Diamondback, the man who can blend into any crowd. With them is Ruby the centaur, literal centaur and Robbie's girlfriend. They stand in a hospital waiting room together.

So, how long?

The doctor said a few weeks.

I swear, if he goes into the ring against Engineer again he is wearing goggles.

Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. We should ask him about that.

Robbie Bourbon walks through a door into the waiting room. Huge dark glasses are set on the bridge of his nose as he is led into the room. He bumps into a person just standing around unawares, bowling them to the ground.

Whoops, sorry, blind big guy here, look out.

The person looks salty, ready to be pissy with Robbie as Robbie smiles in the general direction with who he collided with. They scramble to their feet and slink off as Robbie continues to jauntily walk forward, immediately colliding with a doctor who is talking to another patient. The doctor falls over and looks up at Robbie.

Whoopsy daisy! Can't see!

Robbie, definitely not slowed by his condition, bumps into five other people until he walks past Cyberjaw, Diamondback, and Ruby.

Honey?

Babe!

Robbie turns towards the voice of Ruby, and with Cyberjaw standing between the two of them, Robbie embraces Cyberjaw with a big hug.

Woah, babe, have you been on some weird diet? You don't feel the same!

Robbie slides his hand up onto Cyberjaw's chest, where boobs weren't nor ever were. Robbie looks concerned.

Honey, I'm over here.

Yeah.

Oh, shit!

Robbie recoils, realizing he was blindly putting the moves on one of his best friends. Ruby struts over towards Robbie and hugs him. Robbie smiles as he looks up and clumsily kisses Ruby on the chin, completely missing her lips. He then looks off in a random direction.

So, who wants lunch?

Well, I could eat.

Yes!

Let's go to Dave and Buster's!

That sounds good.

Does it? I mean, you won't be able to play many games in your state.

Balderdash.

Robbie addresses a ficus.

Just because I can't quite see right now doesn't mean I don't know how to have fun. Let's go.

Robbie turns and walks directly into a wall. Diamondback and Cyberjaw correct him and help guide him out of the hospital waiting room.

---

Dave and Buster's, a cavalcade of lights and sounds, average American dining by way of frozen delivery, an arcade full of games tailor made for the place. You won't find classics like Donkey Kong or Galaga here, but rather the amazing and astounding 21st century style games they offer. Along with these, some traditional games exist to assist in churning out tickets, specifically skeeball, where Robbie is seen with Cyberjaw and Diamondback. Beside them, on a table, is food, dishes provided to each, with Ruby standing at the table.

Man, this is a blast, isn't it?

Yeah!

Honey, you should eat. You haven't eaten since before you fought Engineer.

True.

Robbie reaches out onto the table, and plants his hand right into a glass of beer.

Hey, man, my drink!

Ooh, that feels tingly.

Robbie pulls his hand out and flails it, sprinkling beer all over.

Where's my French dip?

Ruby picks up half of the beef sandwich and grabs Robbie's hand, placing it into it. Robbie takes a bite.

Mmm.

Is it good?

Yeah, needs some au jus.

Robbie blindly sticks his sandwich out and smashes it into a hamburger.

C'mon man, my burger!

Hey, that's not au jus!

Ruby snags the cup of au jus and guides it beneath Robbie's sandwich, allowing him to dip it. He takes a bite and looks super pleased. Robbie turns to the skeeball machine beside him and feels around, eventually hitting the button and pulling out a ball.

Man, good company, passable food, good times, who could ask for more?

Robbie turns and rolls a ball nowhere near where one is supposed to when playing skeeball, sending it just on a path along the floor of Dave and Busters.

Bullseye!

No, not a bullseye, you just rolled the ball over into the bar.

A commotion is heard in the bar as another patron steps on the ball, causing them to fall over.

Well, check this one out!

Robbie sets his hand out and places his French dip back on the table, only he didn't have his hand on the table, and his sandwich falls in an adjoining skeeball ramp. Robbie hurls a skeeball and a shriek is heard due to whatever calamity happened.

Alright, let's get out of here.

Robbie turns and walks out of the area, right into an arcade cabinet. The person playing it yells at Robbie.

---

A boutique somewhere in the city, specializing in glassware and other dining finery. A bull approaches the china shop. It stands, looks around, and snorts. It sees Robbie Bourbon crossing the street and steps aside, and Robbie wanders into the china shop. Crashing on a massive scale is heard inside.

Sorry, where's the men's room? I was in a library, by the way, if you can point me at it please I would appreciate it.

The china shop owner guides Robbie out of their establishment and aims him to wander across the street. Robbie does, and traffic both ways brakes immediately to avoid hitting him, causing massive pileups in either direction. Robbie wanders across the street into a construction site. Robbie walks into a lift just as it's set to rise, causing OSHA to shit it's pants. As Robbie is about to walk off the other end of the lift, it reaches it's destination some floors above and Robbie safely walks onto a sturdy platform. He keeps walking and just happens to step on a moving crane, which swings it's head and leads Robbie back to street level but pointed in the wrong direction. He is seen walking into a zoo for more Mr. Magoo type fuckery.

---

A black screen.

So, this is what I see. Nothing. Just dark, for now at least. The doctors say it'll pass, but that damned black mist...

There's a pause.

Either way, I'll be at Warfare. Guaran-fucking-teed. Scotland, coming back to your lovely shores, glad I took the sights in last time, not going to see much this time. Up against none other than everyone's arch rival, the mystery opponent. Woo, who could I possibly be facing? What surprise is in store for me in a Hell in a Cell match? Seriously, I'm the motherfucker bad enough to strut into that structure after the violence in last Sunday's whole debacle with Puddin'. Still confused as to what to call that guy, but hey, he put up a fight, even if he's kind of a weirdo. Funny how erbody is scared to face the dude, I reckon.

Anyhow, I don't need to see in Hell in a Cell, I'll be in that cage and my opponent will be as well, I damn well can still hear when they ring that bell, and I'll find who I'm fighting using sense of smell. Two of us locked up like in the dungeon of some castle, what's that thing that smells like an asshole, beating you so bad you'll think the travel time to get to the arena was a hassle. You might say it's impossible, improbable, or incorrigible the way I'm carrying on, I can't even see the sun, but I can see Robbie Motherfucking Bourbon wrecking somebody inside a cell again.

Man, you know the powers that be love throwing my big ass into that cell. I have been in how many Hell in a Cell matches, chamber matches, the thing with Caedus with monster trucks and a wooden cage, or other cage matches have I been in here while in the XWF? Three hundred and twenty-nine. Three hundred and twenty-nine cage matches total in my XWF career alone, or something like that, and they wanted it again, but this time, I'm as blind as a bat. Can't see my hand in front of my face, but I can see myself wrecking someone inside a cell. Flat out. It don't take much offense from me to be strong offense. Pick your poison, if you have any requests for which of my moves you want me to do so the fans go crazy and share videos of you from the stands on their phones, let me know. Mystery opponent, which move do you want me to do to you?

I've got the phrenology claw, where I literally just squeeze your brain. Seriously, medics backstage ask me not to do that. It's kind of fucked up. I have the Richter Spike if I want to see how much flex your spine has as I crunch your body into the mat. I could throw you in the Flatiron and collapse your diaphram so fast you both completely lose your breath and have the hiccups as your lungs collapse. I can show you the force of the Dinosaur Extinctor, with impact so hard I may actually cause the extinction of your whole career, which is a cheesy line but hey, it's still a fucking nasty move. I can get Honestly Brutal and just sling your carcass around like it was a pool toy, like a Rottweiler got a hold of a rabbit, clinching onto it, shaking it around, and then drumping it to the ground with so much momentum in slow motion whoever I do it to looks like a crash test dummy. Then there's Earth's Mightiest Chokeslam, which will put you into the ground so hard you'll think you're a damn tree the way you've been planted.

Oh fuck, then there's the bomb that's coming. The Robbiebomb.

So blind, or not, I definitely see your ass getting Robbiebombed to hell itself, and that's the promised end as I beat you in your best chance to ever beat me because I'm fucking blind.

I'ma fuck you up, whoever you are.