Bobby faces three other competitors at Warfare for a shot at the Supercontinental Championship.

In the meantime...

IN THE GUTTER



Hey, Theo.

There's a pause on the other end of the line. We hear Theo sigh.

What do you want Bobby?

So, hey, I have a question for you.

If this is about your idea for a pole match special pay-per-view...

Look, Theo, we were in that board meeting. You felt the vibe of the room.

You weren't expected nor supposed to be in a damn board meeting Bobby!

I'm the Grand High PooBOB, I own this company, I won a tourny.

Theo sighs heavily again.

But not literally for the umpteen thousandth time.

Theo, you should just Ilmourgay this one and digress.

What?

That was pig latin.

The board didn't appreciate you doing that either.

~~~~

We cut to an XWF Board Meeting. This lavish office is absolutely immaculate, with a long, deep mahogany table with a fine golden inlay. Sitting in a pink leather chair is Vinnie Lane, beside him in a baby blue leather chair is Theo Pryce. Random assorted board members you don't recognize are seated around the table. The otherwise placid board room is interrupted as a door is kicked open, Bobby walking in with a bucket of chicken. Bobby pauses and glances around.

What, no potluck?

Vinnie gets up from his seat while clearing his throat.

I'm good on whatever this is. Getting a coffee.

Oh, could you...

Nope.

Vinnie walks out of the room while pulling his phone out of his pocket. We audibly hear the sounds from Candy Crush emanating from it. Bobby glances back over his shoulder and watches, then turns back to the board. He sits in Vinnie's pink leather chair and sets the bucket of chicken in front of him. He removes the lid and pulls out a thigh, then gestures the bucket towards Theo. Theo shrugs, but not like Shawn Warstein, then takes a leg.

Esethay oofballsgay antcay avehay ickenchay.

Bobby winks at Theo. With a mouthful of chicken, Theo responds, baffled.

Huh?

A stenographer in the room speaks up.

I think that was pig latin.

~~~~

Look, Theo, besides the whole pig latin incident.

Never use fucking pig latin again Bobby.

Look, I have a question. Why do roofs have gutters?

A brief pause from the other end of the line.

Because they do.

Yeah, but why?

Because people need gutters, Bobby.

Okay, like how we just need referees in matches?

No, Bobby. Referees serve a purpose.

Yeah, but as Grand High PooBOB don't I get to disqualify my opponents and make the rules?

Theo sighs.

No.

Well shit, what does this even get me? I mean, your monkeyspankers who run promotional materials can't even get the spelling right when they announce me on shows. I went to several chain restaurants, not a single free appetizer or dessert when I tell them I'm the ole' G.H.P.B.

It's an honor.

Fuck honor! I want nachos!

Look, Bobby, I'm really busy here, I gotta go.

Theo ends the call. Bobby shakes his head. He scrolls through his contacts until he sees a name and his eyes widen. He boops the contact and the call is initiated to Alias. There's an answer.

Hello?

Hey bud.

Who is this?

Bobby.

Bobby? Bobby Bourbon?

That's my name.

There's a brief pause.

How did you get this number?

You gave it to me.

I don't remember…

~~~~

We see Bobby back at the board meeting. He looks visibly bored by the day in, day out minutiae of running a massive business.

Well, I think that's a terrific plan. I will text the champion right now and let him know.

Theo picks up his phone and swipes at the screen. He then doddles about with the screen. Bobby sneaks a glance without Theo noticing.

~~~~

Look, to get to the point, do you know why houses have gutters?

What?

Bobby takes a deep breath.

Why do houses have gutters?

I, uh, sorry? I'm in the middle of lunch.

Ooh! Are you eating someplace cool? The French Riviera with Picasso? Clams Casino with Cleopatra? Bangers and Mash with the Beatles?

What? No, if I were doing that I don't think I'd get cell service.

Oh. You know, why don’t you ever do anything fun like getting celebrity endorsements when you do your goofy magic nonsense?

Um, integrity? Besides, you do crazy magic nonsense.

I do not! I do strange technology that's nigh impossible to get results, not magic. Ever see Spider-Man: No Way Home?

I don't go to the movies, I'm too busy being esoteric.

Yeah, yeah, but you’re at a diner. Anyhow, Dr. Strange going around and transporting people willy-nilly to wherever is completely unrealistic. The box that lets Spider-Man fabricate any kind of devices without materials and incredibly fast, though, that makes a lot more sense.

Um, I really don't know what you're talking about.

Look, Chris Angel, you have your meal. Great job totally absorbing kicks from Dolly and Raion, making them look completely ineffective, then getting owned by Marf.

Okay. Well it was nice…

Bobby ends the call. He looks flustered. He scrolls through his contacts. He sees one and boops it. This time it says he's calling Vinnie. There's an answer.

Dammit, Bobby.

That's a very bad Hank Hill impersonation.

Not an impersonation. What do you want now? This is like the fifth time you called me this week.

Those calls were important!

Asking me to make Charlie stop putting peanut butter in the fridge was not important.

Yeah, well, you said you owed me one for oiling your pink leather chair.

Vinnie sighs.

What do you want?

Why do houses have gutters?

Vinnie immediately hangs up. Bobby sharply exhales as he scrolls through his contacts list. He stops and boops, dialing Charlie Nickles. Charlie answers.

Bobby! What's up bud?

Oh, you know, not a lot. I'm trying to make my promo longer for lengths sake like you said I should so I'm just recording me calling people.

I said longer promos offer more foundation.

Yeah, yeah, you say that but don't do it. Anyhow, I had a question for you.

Really? I thought you said you were done asking me questions.

~~~~

We see Charlie and Marf standing backstage, their backs to us. Bobby approaches.

What's up guys?

Marf turns around. He holds up his right hand, which is in a pickle jar.

My hand is stuck.

How did you get it in there?

I reached in, grabbed a pickle, but now it won't come out.

Just let go of the pickle.

Charlie turns around.

That won't work.

I really want the pickle.

Why not just use a fork?

You don't eat pickles with forks Bobby.

Yeah, maybe the swells over in hoity-toity fork-town do, but we're real men.

Smoking Bob Williams and Karen Hunt walk by. They're holding forks which have lanced pickles, almost like they're pickle-pops, having a healthy nosh.

What have you tried?

Marf shrugs. It's at this point we see his other hand, too, is in the same predicament, in a jar holding a pickle.

Why is your other hand in that jar?

I really want a pickle, so I had Charlie open another jar.

You have multiple jars of pickles backstage at a show. You know what, I'm not even going to ask.

~~~~

What the fuck are you talking about Charlie?

You know, that time…

I don't care. Do you know why houses have gutters?

There's a slight pause.

Rain gutters?

Bingo.

I dunno, so you don't get wet? I mean, as soon as you walk out in the rain you get wet.

I know, right?

Huh. Did you google it?

No, like I said, I'm just chewing up screen time because you said doing long promos where I just kinda drone on is the wave of the future, even though your record setting time with the Television Title seemed to be rooted in very concise promos.

It is! Didn't you see mine for the Cannabis Cup?

Yeah, sure…

Awesome!

Alright, bud, you go take a lap for not knowing.

What?

You didn't know the answer. I was testing you.

Dammit!

Bye, Charlie.

Later.

Charlie seems forlorn, another lap to be taken is just another day he hasn't advanced himself. Bobby disconnects. He quickly cycles through to another number. This time he calls Dr. Louis D'Ville. Doc answers.

Hello, my friend!

What's up, Doc?

Oh, nothing much, just mutilating a cow in Mexico.

Chupacabra style?

Yes sir.

Nice.

So, how are you?

Not too bad. Being all Grand PooBOB, cutting a promo.

Oh?

Yeah, I'm facing Calypso, Dolly, and John Black.

That should be like taking candy from a baby.

Hah! Hey, remember the time…

~~~~

We cut to see the darkness of an autumn evening. We know it’s autumn because the leaves have changed on the trees in the shot. It must be Halloween, as pumpkins, cobwebs, purple and orange lights, and Trick-or-Treaters are seen everywhere. A pair of children, one dressed as a pirate, the other a bumble bee, walk down the street, excited by the happenings. At that moment, both Bobby and Doc rush the children, performing a snatch and grab of the kids' candy. Both children seem devastated as Bobby and Doc run around a corner and down into a wooded area. Both men laugh and laugh as they sit down and start feasting on candy.

~~~~

Ah, yes, that was fun!

It was. So, anyhow, I have a question for you.

Shoot.

Why do houses have gutters?

Hrmm. I honestly don’t know. Why do you ask? Is this a joke or something?

Really, I don’t know, it just crossed my mind.

Huh. Well, if you learn anything let me know.

Absolutely. Talk to you later.

Ah. Don't forget, pickleball tomorrow!

Wouldn't miss it.

Alright. You have a good one!

Later.

Bobby disconnects, and while his question remains unanswered, he seems contented by the conversation. With that, Bobby stands and leaves the room he's in. He walks a ways down a hall and into the main floor of the Bastard’s Den, the strip club owned by he and TK. Barney Green is on the stage. He's not stripping, instead going over choreography with the dancers. Sitting at a table, counting money, is Thunder Knuckles.

Oh, not a lot. Doing a promo for my match at Warfare.


Alright, I guess. I've mostly been asking people why houses have gutters.


Huh. How do you know that?


Now they do.

Bobby turns his head away from TK, and TK looks away from Bobby. In this way, they can, and do, exchange a no-look fistbump. They turn their heads back towards each other.


Oh hell no, that guy doesn't know what he's talking about.