We see the assembled members of BOB. Miss Fury is wearing a royal blue mask, much in the style of Zorro, and is wielding a pair of swords. Beside her is Ozzy, wearing a purple mask in much the same vein and holding a bo staff. We then see Bobby Bourbon, with a red mask and a pair of sais, and beside him is Thunder Knuckles in an orange mask with nunchaku. The homage to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles is in place, and a pile of dead ninjas in black garb lay around them.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here again, to rip apart our enemies. This is war! We need to hit them hard again, and again, and a-fucking-gain. Bastards, you’re well versed in combat with Lycana. Why don’t you lead us off by sharing your assessment to the world?”

Yo Bobby, I’ve got this! That fucking mutt Lycana getting her shit pushed in by Ceadus was a fucking fun thing to watch, wasn’t it? When ‘Ol Thunder Knuckles retires, I’ll get Lycana to wash my clothes and cut my fucking lawn. For that fucking matter, I’ll hire Marf to shine my goddamn shoes. Lycana ain’t nothing but a goddamn fluff piece. We’re going to fuck her up so bad that she won’t be able to drop a fucking litter. Hell, for as bad as this bitch keeps tossing herself around. I wouldn’t be surprised if she has already taken care of that herself. Wouldn’t wanna get stuck having a fucking autistic Marf baby. Christ that’s fucking scary to think about. Anyway, this fucking flea-infested gutter slut ain’t good enough to be ‘Ol Thunder Knuckles rasslin’ sparring partner let alone a goddamn opponent. Not that I spar, Bobby does that but if I did I’d need better than Lycana, that's for fucking sure. Now be fucking honest, how many times does BOB have to drop this bitch before she learns? Especially at the hands of some Bastards. Let that cunt of yours drip dry before you start slingin’ it this way. Ceadus left a lot up in them guts. Take all your bullshit words, wrap’em up altogether, because they’ve all been proven to be worthless time, after fucking time.

Thunder Knuckles again dazzles the XWF fans around the world with his now-famous jerking-off hand gesture.

Hold your bets on Betsy because she better be jumping to a time period where she joins BOB to know what it’s going to feel like to be the goddamn winner of the 2021 War Games, at Woodstock. Speaking of the Raven jockey. Do you know the difference between a goddamn 3-week-old puppy and Betsy Granger talking about how she can't trust any of her fucking "Friends"? In six weeks, the puppy stops fucking whining. This bitch has been stuck on stupid about this shit for a hot minute, right? Then she goes and picks up everyone who fucking hates her, except Reggie, but Reggie a month ago was pinning Lycana for the Xtreme title. It's fucking crazy! It’s like the ditzy fucking dame went out looking for one of the worst teams. Then build it around fucking Lycana just to get a laugh later with the rest of Legacy. It’s frightening how these elitist assholes think. Your team couldn't even stop a fucking nose bleed, let alone BOB. You're in goddamn trouble and you know it.

Miss Fury nudges TK.

Lycana is nothing more than a mere cockroach. Surviving one apocalypse only to move on to the next. The Left Hand? A dud! The Dissentients? Foiled at every turn! Lycana’s big singles run? Crushed under the boot of Jim Caedus! After that, one has to question if she is really the stand out talent of these groups, or if she is actually the cause of all of their failures? Either way, one thing's for certain, she’s not the biggest disadvantage these women face. That honor would go to Betsy Granger, who in all of her strategic prowess, put together a team of women who have been involved in blood feuds with her all year, but one of them, just like Betsy Granger and her “Amazing Disappearing Friends”, has proven herself to be not so much of a team player after suffering what I can only assume was a complete mental breakdown leading into her Universal Championship match, and then trying to push the blame of failure onto her teammates! It leaves you to wonder, just how far into your decimation will you find yourself before Atty no longer sees the benefits of playing nice? It’s not like this is a story that you’re unfamiliar with, Betsy. Atara ALWAYS betrays. Brand before honor, right TK?

Miss Fury crosses her arms with a smirk and looks at TK.

Atara, when you joined BOB you got all excited. Hell, I was too, it was all fucking good. I thought it was funny though, that after YOU lost everything YOU turn YOUR back on US. It's like when your friend gets all excited playing Madden and you let her get the lead. Then you come back and take it from her. We're taking War Games from you because you don't deserve it. We do. BOB does. Alias was pretty good at twisting your brain up. Maybe you believed what the skinny little cum stain was saying, but that's his game, that's why you lost. Maybe, you're not taught tough lessons in Greece, but in Lima Ohio, life is fucking hard. There are hundreds of fucking Alias' all waiting for you to fuck up and turn on your friends because of his actions. Fucking coke dealers, gangs, even the goddamn prostitutes, all people like Alias, just waiting to fuck you up. Stay true to who you are and don't let those fuckers get in your goddamn head. That is for future reference because it's not going to do you any good at War Games. You're eating a Rainbow Laser Death Sequence just for being a cunt!

Miss Fury looks back to the camera and shrugs with a grimace.

Sorry dove.

That grimace quickly morphs into a grin.

Tell me Atty, I can still call you that, right? Because currently, I am unsure if we’re friend or foe. I mean, it’s not like you’ve reached out and communicated, but that is a bit of a habit, isn’t it? One word Atara. One word from you asking for BOB’s help, and we would have been there, ready for war, ready to die, all to put a belt on your waist. Why? Because that’s what BOB does, but what BOB absolutely does NOT do is presume. It’s not my call, it’s not TK’s call, it’s not Bobby’s call, and it damn sure isn’t CCP’s call. If YOU want help, in the ring or out, all you have to do is ask.

You didn’t. Instead, you shit the bed, found a scapegoat, and passed the buck! Just like Betsy did with our acting team captain, Reggie Estrada!

TK interrupts by sarcastically waving off the “challenge”.

Reggie is just a fucking sideshow carnival attraction no one wants to go see, but he’s always around. Look ladies, gentlemen, and children of all ages. It’s Reggie Estrada! He once pinned Robert Main to win the Xtreme Championship! A year… ago… You got your ass stomped out by Alias the last time you tried to win it. So what’s it fucking matter? Don’t worry Reggie ‘Ol Thunder Knuckles will tell you! No one gives a fuck! BOOM! Down goes the shit basket Reggie Estrada. Someone better start the count, cause this fucker is knocked out cold.

ONE!

TWO!

BOBBY!

Ladies and Gentlemen, hold onto your butts, BOB’s on a tear and it’s time to get nuts! We’re coming to pillage your village and all of your huts, tear off your heads and rip out your guts! First up on the track, we call her Miss Fury, bringing nuclear heat like she was Marie Curie! Broke the thermometer when she blew out the mercury, she has all the conviction of a state’s grand jury! Following y’all best be ready to get stonewalled, because we got the big man, Big Money Oswald! Can’t touch the hair on his head and it ain’t ‘cause he’s all bald, he’s a wizard, a monster, all around mythical what’s it called! Then of course, my bastard in arms, Mr. Knuckles, me and him do this kind of shit on the regs just for chuckles! His ass you can kiss and his dick may you suckle, he’s a man machine in between them turnbuckles! And humbly yours truly, the MC on this occasion, rounding out the team as the final part of the equation, a silly caucasian of the Bastardly persuasion, you can call me Bobby Bourbon, and this is my lyrical invasion. We’re going to war! Once more into the breach, ready to leave more bodies on the ground than there were on Omaha Beach! Dominance of the XWF is well within our reach, no time to give pause now, I’m just gonna preach!

Take ‘em to church!

Time for hellfire and brimstone!

Just another day in the goddamn office!

Fuck yeah! So, lookit what we got here, Lycana is back in the ring with Them No Good Bastards, fresh after dropping the Xtreme Championship. True, she was beaten by someone else, and we’ll get to that guy in a minute, but there’s a difference between being beaten by someone and what happens come Wargames. We’ve called the ASPCA, we’ve gone and signed the adoption papers, and we will own Lycana. A flea collar, a nice Kong chew toy, and a big back yard for her to shit in while Marf sniffs it. Lycana, your goofy wolf powers have nothing on Ozzy’s goofy powers, that’s for sure. Thing is, Lycana, we’re not bringing a rolled up newspaper to the ring, no, and I really would hate to hurt a dog, but you’re a dopey bitch who’s caught up in her own cross-eyed backwoods dipshittery who will come and tell everybody how much of a threat you can be. That’s fine. Tell us all about how special and weird you are, and how it’s special to be weird. We’re all weird in our own weird ways. Ozzy buys grape popsicles because they have the best jokes on the stick. Fury orders pepperoni pizzas and then picks the pepperoni off one by one to eat it. TK won’t wear bow ties because he thinks they’re racist. I have to close the toilet before I shower in case I step out, slip, and have a wild slapstick incident where I wind up with my foot in a toilet. You don’t hear us boasting about how our foibles set us apart, no. What sets us apart, Lycana, are results. Ass whoopings. I beat the shit out of people, and I’m going to rack up more eliminations this Wargames to add to my collection. You, Lycana, are going to be one of them.

After Bobby finishes. Oswald, TK, Bobby, and Fury all strike the signature Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle pose as the scene fades to black.