Bobby looks down at his phone. He purses his lips.

I guess I’m too much, you know what I mean? I mean, I get it, I really fucking get it, I come on intense, I come on hard, and I keep coming until they break, and it’s the story I live with. This one, shit, what an experience. Men die wishing they dreamed of what I have done, and that’s the story of my life, left alone once the dreams have gone.

Bobby snorts and looks dead at the screen.

Y'know, Mastermind. What mastery is there? Fingerpaints, cheese doodles, and shitty shirts? I saw your last promo, and you were right on two points. One, yes, damn right, I am a fucking badass that destroys fools like you and I know it. It's called self-awareness, you fucking moron. And is this all about me? I didn't show up with TK or any other Bastards, I am coming to Bad Medicine by my damn self, so yeah, sorry if I didn't talk about how awesome my people are. You're still hot fucking garbage regardless. The second thing you were right about? You are definitely going down and choking like a drunk prom date. Pardon me if I forego the corsage.

Bobby shakes his head in disdain.

But saying I don't care about the XWF? Hold up, chump. I am here, I am coming, and I wasn't forced into a damn bit of it. Nobody held a gun to my head and told me I better be at Bad Medicine, no-sirree. I came back to the XWF because while I was gone, lingerie football and weakness ran rampant around here, and you sure as fuck did nothing to contest any of that. How could you? You don't have the wherewithal, the capacity, or the balls to step up and make change where you see fit. I, on the other hand? I didn't just make XWF history, no, I fucking molded and sculpted it, one ass-whooping at a time, and now I am the Grand High PooBOB, the Bastard King. Your king. You seemed absent for a lot of it, and I get it. I was around, that was very scary for you and you just stayed home. Now you're begging the owner of the company to not allow me to compete, which says everything, because as long as I am around you will never shine, because you're talentless and can't live in a world where you aren't the best. You, MM, are the weakness permeating the XWF, so bite your tongue before I rip it out and feed it to puppies.

Bobby smiles.

I have brought and spread the XWF across the universe, MM. Every company outside of this one, I beat ass in ways you could never comprehend, and when they question where I come from or how I learned to entertain the masses by beating all those asses, I let them know I came from the XWF. You know what I don't fucking tell them about? Your worthless ass. I hype Raion Kido, one of the fastest rising stars I have ever seen. I tell everyone about Jenny Myst, Ned Kaye, Flynn, Lux, and the Bing Bong Twins. Bringing you up will raise questions, like "why do you beat up a guy who gets confused by his own socks" or "how come he wrestles". When I tell a joke I'm aware of it, MM, you are a joke and are lost in the weeds thinking you're a contender. Wait, didn't me and TK crush you and Morbid Angel for the tag belts a while back? Have you even sniffed a title opportunity since?

Bobby shakes his head, smirking.

So flat the fuck out, this is the best the XWF has to offer? I have circumvented the multiverse looking for the baddest of the bad, because, well, the XWF ain’t it anymore. Committing criminal enterprise with TK and spreading the word of the Bastard is jolly good fun and well outside the fucking scope of just competing the fuck here, and we ran it to the moon and back into the ground because the tag division and scene here is so depleted even Vinnie and Theo will say it isn’t a focus because while there’s something for everyone, there ain’t enough room for the two of us, and, well, divide and conquer. TK is doing TK, and we’re defending the OCW tag team championships over there so he can get a crack at their top champ, and if you wonder what a top champ is, just envision the Universal Champion, except on a hot seat instead of whatever grace Graves feels like giving over. Yikes. I had challengers when I was holding the Uni, like Finn, not defacto challengers while a fool held a briefcase. We’re also doing shit in a company called IIW where several XWF superstars compete, because we’re not just some insular hellhole held by some dickhead insisting we make him rich, no, I was allowed to not give a fuck about the XWF by my friends, you stupid ass motherfucker, and they are Vinnie and Theo, because I don’t fucking work for people dumber than me, I don’t work for people less than me, I am a fucking member of this here pirate crew until the day I fucking die, and I am the fucking King, and you are just some piece of shit coming to complain and cause yourself worry because I do what you never fucking will. Turncoat? Not giving a rats ass of this here XWF, where I reign? Do I like the XWF even? God damnit, I fucking love her, and I am here because of the honor I hold in being her King, not to grace the fans with my presence, but to find grace in their approval, to find grace in winning, to achieve a high so potent there is no dealer on Earth that could offer what I get by stomping your ass into the curb like you were Velveeta.

Bobby pauses and glares at the camera.

My name is Bobby Motherfucking Bourbon. You’re going to remember that name. You may have avoided it, dodged it, and spat it into the dirt, but for the love of god, here I come, for you, one on one, at fucking last, and you will not survive what I do to you. You want to talk about the end times, about what way it goes out, about your friend dying? Neat. I’ma come to guarantee that from now on, from here on the fuck out, whatever, whenever, or whoever Mastermind talks about, it sure as shit ain’t worth the cotton it gets printed on. The bottom of my bootheels have graced sights better than your face and you better fucking thank me when you feel them. Mastermind, MM, you are a staple of the XWF, I get it, you hung around there for a while, were an asset, just not the type I fucking am by a long shot, but ultimately, were just shit enough to be a turd someone wanted to give a second chance to while not even being worth a piss. A piss! The stuff we all pour into a ceramic bowl a few times a day, so special we need a room for it, and MM isn’t even welcome there.

Bobby points downward so it’s noticeable. I write this shit taking advantage of the fact you’ve watched a person on a screen, and I apologize. So does MM, but he’s garbage.

So Universe, I’ll be blunt. Met a woman, she is more than any of you could ever dare fucking handle, don’t ask my secret. She’s the dopest, period, from this or any era, she has me around her finger. Don’t ask for a definition, because it’s mine and nunya. Don’t ask for details, it’s mine and nunya. Don’t ask about her, it’s mine and nunya, and damn, I have hit up so many motherfuckers so far that this business is no longer mine, and it’s no longer nonya business. I hit up Vinnie. I hit up Charlie. I hit up TK. I confessed my insecurities, generally after I told homegirl, and you know the cool part? She knows how insecure I am better than any of you. She, on the other hand, likes her a conqueror. A monster. A destroyer. I don’t ask what she sees in me. I don’t ask what MM sees in me. I don’t even know entirely what it is I am doing, to be honest, but fuck, when it’s go time, when the shit is hitting the fan, when it’s crunch time, I just get the urge to step the fuck up and crush shit so it gets cool again, and MM, nothing, absolutely nothing, rings in the cool about you. Instead we get melodrama, failure to reconcile personal trauma, a longing for the loins of your mama, leaving you as harmful as a skeleton of a llama. I digress, my lyrical flow is precious and you aren’t worth it.

Bobby snorts.

Face it, fucker, I have brought the word of Xtreme to every company I have ever visited while you have made Xtreme seem like stale horse shit left as fucking beef jerky. Get off, step off, you don’t belong in the ring with me, and holy shitballs, are the people going to see it on Sunday night.

Bobby’s phone goes off, we hear the sound of Owen Wilson saying “wow”. He changed it. He immediately pulls the phone from his pocket and checks it, then his eyes slowly close as his mouth levels, his face coming much more placid. He glances back into the camera.

Gotta go. More important than any wrestling company, she thinks I’m special.

Bobby closes his eyes again.

I will give her and what the people what they deserve.

Suddenly, without warning, contrary to what BOB wishes, contrary to what Mastermind expects, chivalry once again steers Bobby.