Bearded War Pig, one half of the Motherfuckers, recently met with Secretary of Defense Mattis to discuss the next mission America has for it's top dark ops assets, the Motherfuckers.

Bourbon, on the other hand, has been running into the less cool cabinet members...

ABUSE OF EXECUTIVE POWER

The Bourbon Dojo. Still bustling and busy after all these years and a second location. The wrestling students seem to be jumping off of the ropes onto a big fluffy foam pad, doing cool flippy shit that would make old school purists flip their shit. The culinary students are making candy in a bevy of colors, passing it out to those who just got their hair cut in the salon. Dunkin Donuts is thriving, serving their excellent blueberry iced coffee. America runs on Dunkin.

The only new sight, in earnest, are the group of four federal agents placed outside of the office in the center of the dojo. From a hallway, we see Robbie Bourbon walking up to the office with Betty DeVos, Secretary of Education, along with Cyberjaw, the man with the cybernetic jaw, Xtreme Travel Agent, Cyberjaw's main squeeze and possible victim of Stockholm syndrome, and Jared the Wizard, corpulent cosplay enthusiast. Robbie is not in drag, this is Motherfucker's business, he'll handle looking like a gentlelady when cutting promos against Cadryn.

Well, Mr. Bourbon, I am thoroughly impressed with your facilities. You're enriching the minds of American youths and helping them get the education, skills, and experience they need to not only succeed but make our country better.

Well, I try Mrs. DeVos.

No you don't, you generally do nothing at all to interact with your students.

Verily, you once had me instruct the wrestling students in the ways of offensive prowess in combat so you could hang out in thine office and play video games and snooze.

That was once.

When was the last time you did anything in the salon?

I don't cut hair, I'm just a patron for the haircutting arts. I get my haircut regularly.

Don't stare at my man!

Everybody halts as XTA hollers at DeVos.

Don't, um, mind her.

Robbie shoots a gaze at XTA, mouthing "stop that" at her. XTA looks back at him confusedly.

Mr. Bourbon, please, I would love to see a demonstration of your teaching methods.

Robbie shrugs.

Okay.

Robbie clears his throat.

BOURBON MEN! FALL IN!

The entirety of the dojo, save the people working at Dunkin Donuts and serving customers that don't actually study here, just enjoy coffee, and said customers, all drop what they're doing and walk over. The patrons in the salon sit in their chairs and wait as their stylists leave them to come to the congregation, the confections in the kitchen are pulled from heat and left on counters. Robbie rolls his eyes.

Okay, look, if you're busy cooking or cutting hair, go back to what you were doing. You wrestling students, anybody who hasn't started making candy or finished their candy, hang around, and we're not even doing nails today so any of the nails girls and guys hold tight, it's learning time. First, candy people, go get candy and give some to Mrs. DeVos.

Mr. Bourbon, I firmly believe any great institution of learning has candy.

Awesome.

A couple students mill back to their locations as a few of the chefs in training start handing out hand made candies. The agents assigned to Bourbon via Mattis decline the candy.

Oh, okay. First of, Bourbon Men, I'm going to demonstrate how to use power with respect and dignity.

Robbie turns to the first agent.

You, go take seven laps around the dojo.

"Yes sir!"

The agent takes off, in his efficiency suit, and starts to jog around the dojo. Robbie approaches the second agent.

You, go take ten laps around the dojo, but faster than that guy.

"Yes sir!"

The next agent takes off, putting in an awful lot of hustle to beat the other man to more laps. Robbie approaches the third agent.

You, go stop them.

"Yes sir!"

The third agent sprints and tackles the second. Robbie approaches the last agent.

You, go do 7 laps while backpeddling in the opposite direction of the other two, only speaking backwards.

"Ris sey!"

The final agent goes about his task. He quickly trips over the second agent who was tackled as the third agent starts to chase down the first, like some shitty logic puzzle.

Now, guys, that's an abuse of power. That serves no purpose whatsoever other than to make people do things for no real reason other than the fact I could. How can I fix it?

Tell them to stop?

No, I can't. I would then be depriving them of purpose and a sense of self. Their whole life now revolves around the notion that not only am I correct for telling them to do that, but also that I'm to be appreciated for it.

Give them something else to do?

Exactly! I have to find a new set of instructions and an activity for them. AGENTS!

The four agents return to Bourbon, ready and willing.

Okay, you guys are to go outside and host a fundraiser car wash to pay for the Motherfucker's mission to find the lizard people. I know we have government funding, but what if we need snacks, or a small first aid kit, or one of those cool wind up flashlights that don't need batteries, or other shit we can get at the dollar store or Five and Below. Sound good?

The agents all answer in unison.

"Yes sir!"

They all scramble to find buckets, sponges, soap, and a hose. DeVos looks impressed.

Very good, Mr. Bourbon. Not only are you teaching these fine young Americans, you're fulfilling your civic duties as deep cover operatives for the United States. The way you're offering demonstrations while maneuvering with Top Secret information is a cornerstone of the Trump administration.

Thank you, Mrs. DeVos. You see, Pig and mine's opponents are representatives of the lizard people, a consortium of reptiles spanning the globe all around the country. From every longitude and latitude, from the equator to the north and south poles, the lizard people are operating and living, and we need to learn more about them.

Well, I can't agree more, except the world is flat.

Bourbon blinks. Hard.

Come again?

I said the world is flat, Mr. Bourbon.

Robbie squints at DeVos. She is completely straight faced. A few students chuckle, but Robbie silences them by raising his hand in the air.

Mrs. DeVos, would you like one of our famous Dunkin pretzels?

Ooh, I love a warm pretzel.

Good, just go stand in the Dunkin Donuts, don't speak to anybody, and we'll get you a pretzel.

Okay!

Betty DeVos walks over to the Dunkin Donuts.

You want me to get a culinary student to bake her a pretzel?

Nope. She can wait.

Oh.

Jared the Wizard steps forward, a determined look on his face.

Motherfucker Robbie, dost thou need protective magics against the lizardfolk? They can be a barbaric and harsh race, though they're notably neutral. Their natural claw attacks are vicious indeed, their bonuses to strength and constitution are noteworthy, and their ability to hold their breath equal to four times their constitution scores worth of rounds make them highly adaptive in environments us humans have difficulty with.

What? No. Where did you get that information?

The Monster Manual.

Shut up.

Jared purses his lips and steps back.

Okay, Bourbon men, there are some weird goofy people out there. Some of them believe in a flat earth. Some of them think vaccines lead to autism. And some of them, around twelve million Americans, believe that the country is secretly controlled by lizards.

Joe Biden walks up to the congregation.

That's hogwash! Nonsense! Lizards have never run this country!

Joe Biden then uses his naturally tacky hands and feet to scurry up a wall, turn his head one hundred and eighty degrees, hiss at the students, then spin his head to snatch a bug with his long prehensile tongue. He then scurries back down the wall and calmly walks down the hall.

See, Joe Biden might be a lizard, but he was only Vice President, and is only Vice-King of the Jobbers. Never once have lizards run this country.

Wait, don't you just have to ask Biden about what the lizard initiatives are? What they want, how to bridge communication with them?

No. Every time I talk to him about it he gets all defensive then ironically acts very much like a lizard. It's pointless, watch. JOE!

Biden turns and walks back over to Robbie.

Hey bud!

Hey, Joe. How are you?

I'm good.

How was your night last night?

It was great! I got to play with crayons, ate my favorite color, flushed the ones I hated down the toilet, then me and Robo-Rob made paper hats and played pirates at the bowling alley until we got to bowl for free!

Awesome. Now Joe, tell me about what the lizard people want.

What? No, no such thing as lizard people!

Joe Biden's eyes dart around in different directions as he hisses. He then sheds his skin, along with his velvet track suit, and scurries off on all fours with his neck flaps exposed. He rounds a corner and disappears.

See? It's useless.

Well, have you tried talking to Nixon? He seems like an expert on the subject.

No. He's an opponent. He won't return my calls, says I'm too scary a human being. I guess he's kind of right, I do wreck hard and kick the shit out of people on the regular, I'm best friends with a PTSD and ADHD killing machine, and what's more I have a way of getting people behind me on some trivial ass shit. So, in my eyes, Thomas Nixon is either a genuine champion for the lizard people, keeping us divided on purpose, a purveyor of segregation, and in the name of freedom and decency I have to beat his ass so hard his scales bleed, or he's taking enough LSD and bath salts that he actually subscribes to the whacked out theory that he is a lizard person and represents them. In turn, he might have drugged the shit out of Brock Lesnar, he might have actually cloned him. If the latter is the case, well, then the clone needs to be destroyed. For starters, human cloning is banned in North America according to the congress of the United States. None of that shit. Genetic engineering of a person because you feel their DNA will serve you better is yet again a means of segregation, of demeaning nature, and is the extreme hubris of believing one can play god. Mr. Nixon, regardless of the will of the lizard people, false or otherwise, you've been a bad little monkey. Or Gila monster. Either way, you've got this ass whooping coming to you. It doesn't matter how civil you want to sound, how rational you want to seem, it's bullshit. Nonsense. It's poisonous to the people, all the people, lizard or otherwise. Those people, should the exist, have the right to better representation. Not some mook who gets bitter about Jack Cain winning out for the TV Title and makes a Brock Lesnar.

Now, Lesnar. For starters, you might want to brush up on the names of the men who are going to beat the fuck out of you on national television. Like every other time a Brock Lesnar has shown up in the XWF. I remember one time Dim put a foot up Brock Lesnar's ass. Literally. Dim has grape jelly for brains. Literally. I checked. Split his dome open, there was grape jelly. What do you think I'm going to find in your skull after I open it up, Lesnar? I mean, not getting me and my partner's names, that's so late nineties of you. However, allow me to accurately depict you. For starters, a false Minnesotan, you're a clone you clown in a test tube you were grown in, put you down for the count faster than a bottle of melatonin, your batteries are dying think it's time to plug your phone in. You sir, call me Whiskey, sir, call my brother Hog, sir, not our problem you can't remember words, sir, but it's high time we talked about the name of this mock Lesnar, he ain't the real thing he's just a load of crock Lesnar, put in some time in the ring with us and we'll punch your clock Lesnar, my partner even said it's predetermined it's pretty much a lock Lesnar, the Motherfuckers are the baddest on the block Lesnar, we're watching you like a hawk and you can try to talk the talk but you won't walk the walk Lesnar, you're a messy waste of cloned effort and I'm a master like Johann Sebastian Bach Lesnar, I'll Robbiebomb you into oblivion and Pig will make your head rock Lesnar, we're the squad that took a beating to Theo, John, Maddy and Doc Lesnar, they called it square and let it slide because we're that dangerous, it's no shit Sherlock Lesnar, when you're all done getting dismantled you can suck a lizard cock Lesnar. Ladies and gentleman, get a load of this fake ass Brock Lesnar.