The shot opens on a close up of Corey Smith.

Yoooooo, it's your friendly neighborhood Corey. Better half of time traveling uber assassin Lux and absolutely cuter than your favorite K-Pop star. Except for Baekhyun, because honestly that shit's just not fair. So, it's been a while since we last chatted. I've been letting Lux take the wheel because.....reasons....

He bites the inside of his cheek as his glance awkwardly dances away from the camera.

Yeah. So anyway, I have something pretty important to talk to you guys about. And honestly, it's not an easy thing for somebody to admit. His expression starts to become more dour. But I've got to be true, both with Lux and I's fans, with the XWF, and quite frankly, with myself.

Corey draws in a deep breath. And you, our illustrious viewer, realize there is only one thing he could be talking about. Only one topic that cuts to the core of all of Corey's weaknesses and insecurities. The thing that quite literally, almost took his life once....

I think I got ripped off by BourbCo.

….and that's definitely not it.

The shot pulls back so abruptly that it's actively jarring. Looming in the background is this likely site of a brutal underground bum fight league.



Corey gestures at the abandoned building behind him, as his friend and member of XWF's technical crew Rox also steps into the shot. Rox is looking back at the building with a degree of trepidation. I wonder how many child sacrifices to Moloch have occurred between those walls.

Oh, it's worse than that! Because this place was listed on all of BourbCo's financial records as being its headquarters. Clearly not! Corey grouses. Let me catch everybody up to speed. A few months back Robbie Bourbon debuted BourbCo, which kind of seemed like the old Sears Catalogs but with way plusher banana hammocks. Naturally, I was intrigued! And I wanted to buy some stock in this brilliant new venture. So I tried to call Robbie about it, and was put on hold for like 3 days. Finally, by day 4 I was transferred to a woman who might have been Indian but I don't want to make any racist assumptions. So let's say for the sake of argument that her accent was a beautiful symphony of all dialects. And I placed an order for 100 BourbCo's with her.

Rox makes a face at Corey's back like she just cannot believe this shit.

I gave her my credit card information....

She definitely cannot believe this shit.

...and was told my BourbCo's would reach me in 7-10 business days.

And let me guess, it never showed up?

Oh, my cynical friend, you would be half right! I got a package all right, addressed from BourbCo. But inside the package was an old rotary phone and instructions on how to start my own business selling BourbCo stock by making cold calls! I GOT RIPPED OFF!

Corey wheels around towards the creepy building with a curtness borne of shattered dreams and the sheer humiliation of falling for a blatant pyramid scheme. So I have come to extract my pound of flesh from Robbie Bourbon, get the stock I deserve, and regain my dignity.

Rox looks at Corey, a sly grin tugging at her features. I don't think you'll find any of the above here. In fact, I think we'll be lucky not to run afoul of a colony of mutated feral cats.

Corey steps up shoulder to shoulder with Rox, eying the building with determination. I like cats.

She turns to Corey then, eyes slanted skeptically. So, and I'm just taking a shot in the dark here, there wouldn't happen to be any chance that you're engaging in this wacky adventure to avoid discussing more serious and pressing topics, would there?

We can see the young man's jaw clench, his molars working against each other as truth knocks at the door and is rebuffed. He smiles suddenly like a plastic veneer. Nope! No chance of that at all! Corey points ahead like a parody of an intrepid colonialist explorer and takes off towards the abandoned building. Sally forth!

Rox runs up behind him, and then gets just ahead of him, walking backwards and casting a glance back every so often to ensure she doesn't trip on any debris or remains from Satanic sacrifices. So, there's no chance we can discuss our insane sexual chemistry? Or your obvious feelings of guilt over having sex with me while high on coc-

Corey gently pushes past Rox as he picks up the pace. Not sure what you're referring to. But if you want to come with me I suggest you move a little faster.

Scowling, Rox falls in line behind him as they near the broken down monolith. Corey finally reaches a large metal door and gives it a tug. At first, it doesn't budge, so he places a foot on the wall next to it as a brace and draws back on the handle even more. After a few dramatic tugs, the door suddenly pops with a groan. Corey almost loses his footing, but recovers deftly and doesn't hit the ground. A miasma of dust breathes through the open door, and they both pull their shirts up and over the bottom half of their faces when they step inside.



Corey, can we please go? Rox sounds off from beneath her shirt. This looks like the kind of place dumb teenagers go to get axe murdered by a guy wearing a flesh mask.

Present company excepted, I assume?

No, because you're being a dumb teenager right now.

Corey ignores her goading and has another look around. There's got to be something here that will point me in the direction of where BourbCo is really based out of.

Or you could stop subliminating your fears and concerns and talk to me like an adult.

OR! Corey stabs a finger in the air, shooting Rox a sardonic look. I could cut a promo on why I'm mad at Robbie Bourbon.

She throws her hands in the air in defeat. Okay, cool. I'm gonna step outside so all this asbestos doesn't turn my lungs into straight up cancer.

Ok. Be back in a jiffy. The boy wheels about on his heels and turns further inwards towards this morass of rusted steel, debris, and rat shit. Spotting a flight of stairs, he approaches the base of them and tests the bottom stair gingerly with a toe. Judging it safe enough to climb, he does so.

Robbie Bourbon! The man of the people himself. Truth be told, I'm really glad we can have this time just between us. We have the history Robbie. And no, I'm not talking about War Games. I'm talking about US history. You and Corey. Corey pauses a bit to skip over a step that looks like it has a dead cat carcass on it. Yuck. You see Robbie, out there in this wide world is a little kid version of me. Literally. It's some crazy time line shit that would only make sense if you actually paid attention to Lux and what goes on in the XWF but you'd rather chase thirst traps on Twitter so suffice it to say.... Corey waggles his hands sarcastically, like jazz hands.....it's timey wimey argle blargle. But me and that little kid version of me are the same person. So I have that kid's memories. And that little guy? Holy shit he loved him some Robbie Bourbon!

Corey reaches the top of the stairs and sees rows and rows of derelict offices. He pushes forward. I remember how hard that little guy marked out when you finally triumphed over Danny Sex. Or when you captured the Universal Championship! Or when it was you and Engy and BWP in The Motherfudgers (saying the real name was just asking for some Lava soap in my mouth). You were that little dude's IDOL. But then...things got kinda weird, didn't they? And I remember that little boy engaging in some serious mental gymnastics drawing to justify it. Corey is propping open doors as he goes, and finding the offices largely empty. Like, why did Robbie just give up on the Universal Championship like that? Why did Robbie just.....go away? And of course, when you're a kid all adults are like these MONOLITHS, right? They can do no wrong! And that goes double for your heroes. So little kid me made all kinds of excuses for Robbie Bourbon. Because there was no way he would just flagrantly disappoint so many of his fans and not give a shit about it, right? There's no way the man of the people would pull a "I'm just headed to the store to buy some cigarettes."

Corey throws open one last door, but does so rather forcefully, betraying more than a fair share of bitterness. There is nothing in this office either.

Heh. They say “never meet your heroes”. Because now, I'm in the unique position of meeting that same man that little me worshipped, at roughly the same time that he sang hosannah's to him in the toy aisle and begged his parents to buy every piece of overpriced plastic that bore a rough facsimile of his mug. But this me...this Corey....doesn't wear the blinders of youth. This Corey sees that Robbie Bourbon is just....a man. A man who got tired of being Universal Champion and tried to pawn the belt off instead of toughing it out like his successor who was literally willing to fight through CANCER with that belt to make it mean something. A Robbie Bourbon who, by his own admission, now has better things to do than be in the XWF. Like, I don't know, dick around on Twitter or hang out in other feds. Which, as an adult, are all absolutely things you are entitled to do! But, in so doing, it relegates you to nothing more than a hollow brand. A fact that you made obvious to everyone when you came at us with BourbCo....before promptly pissing off to greener pastures again.

Corey finds a desk that had at one point been shunted into the hallway. He dusts it off and has a seat on it.

I mean, sure, you were there for Lux and Donovan's team at War Games. But even then, it wasn't about anything but making good for Robbie. I mean, how long did you piss and moan about having to team with Scully before finally sucking it up and slipping on your grown up pants? And then, there was you feeding “max effort” into the hype machine for our team by...cutting a dash cam video while you were out working your side hustle?? I mean, what the hell was that? Uber? Lyft? GrubHub? Because I'm definitely gonna special request that “trash talk supreme” drops off my next Nachos Supreme. Corey throws his arms out in exasperation. The cold hard fact is that for almost two years now the story of Robbie Bourbon has consisted of nothing but loose endings, false starts, and let downs. You want THAT to be your brand? Fine. Whatever. But don't piss on our legs and tell us it's raining by claiming to be anything more than that.

Corey kicks his feet out a bit from the desk, but when his heels swing back they strike with a thunderous crash on the empty desk that reverberates through the empty halls. But, no sooner does that sound ebb away, do we hear the sound of something falling in the distance. Corey looks back, and then returns his attention to the camera. Did you hear that? The camera nods yes. He bites his lip nervously.

Huh. We're gonna let that mellow for a bit. Onto Bee Double Pee. Corey sighs LOUDLY. Do you know how tough it is to tee off on a vet? Like, literally anything I say can be refuted with “well fuck you I got shot at for your freedoms.” I mean yeah, tad jingoistic, but.... He shrugs....kinda true?

You faced Lux once before, and she won. But from what I recall she had a lot of respect for you. And I did too. Mostly. But then when it became clear you didn't give a shit about our match I came at you hard. And then...you still did nothing. OOOH-RAH! Corey pumps his arm in the air sarcastically. And it seems like it's been one rolling ball of nothing since then. I'm starting to sound like a broken record here, but Jesus, what else CAN I say? I'd LOVE to be able to sit here and go, “Boy that Pig sure is something! That brawny unbeatable son of a bitch. And what a whip smart promo to boot.” I mean, the best I can do for you is say that whatever beard oil you use is absolutely DIVINE. And yes, I will admit to some jealousy. I try to grow a beard and it looks like a four year old drew pubes on my chin while I slept.

But that's all you got, man. That and being the short end of the totem pole on the Motherfuckers. Dont...don't try to deny it. Engy was here. Corey holds his hand up high. Bourbon was here. He holds his hand lower than Engy's position, but still respectable. And you? Like....somewhere down there. He points towards the floor. No, further. Okay, THROUGH the floor. Everybody knew it, man. Everybody. And ever since that match with Lux earlier this year you've been a ghost. Not even like a cool Japanese ghost, just a ghost that shows up at random to shit his pants right in the middle of the ring and then take the walk of shame back to a locker room full of guys that averted their eyes rather than look at you because it's kinda sad to see a veteran get dragged so hard. Corey relents a bit, shaking his head and sighing. Is it the PTSD? Dude, go see somebody. I'm serious. Because Lux? She's in a state lately, and she's got assholes looking to knock her down a peg every which way she turns. Madison. . Soldier on the horizon. She's coming HARD and she's losing face to NO ONE. So if you aren't ready for that then don't bother. Get some help then come back. But Jesus man, don't show your ass again. Just....don't.... Corey is definitely struggling to push this recrimination out. Just then, another crash is heard in the distance. Corey starts and hops off the desk. Welp, time to go make myself into a horror movie victim. Never thought I say this but boy I wish I still had my V-card.

He steps tentatively further into the crumbling facility, the sagging floor groaning precariously in places. Finally clearing the rows of abandoned offices, we find that the second floor opens up into a cavernous storage room. And inside this room, stacked damn near floor to ceiling, is a mountain of BourbCo Brand Banana Hammocks. Corey looks taken aback by this, but honestly it's nothing compared to what comes next.

Who goes there?! A voices hisses.

The poor kid nearly jumps out of his shoes. Who's speaking?! Where are you?!

Suddenly, this thing pops it's head out from the pile of banana hammocks.



GAAAAHHH! Corey recoils in horror. OH GOD WHY?!

Slithering out from the pile, the bug-eyed creature staggers to an upright position. What do you want?!

Averting his eyes, Corey stammers out a response. Oh wow, like, no offense man but could you look just ANYWHERE else?

The creepy little troll sighs and picks up a packaged banana hammock. He tears open the plastic and affixes the ass side of the banana hammock over his head. The fabric on the back is emblazoned with Robbie Bourbon's face. Is that better?

Marginally. So are those things as comfortable as advertised?

It's a poly-cotton blend so not bad. Now what do you want?

Look man, I don't want any trouble. I got ripped off by BourbCo and I'm trying to find out where the company moved to so I can get what's owed to me. Do you know anything?

Heh. Heh, heh, heh. The troll chuckles mirthlessly, the fabric of the thong pushing out and away from his mouth with every breath.

What's so funny?

You're looking for BourbCo? The creepy little bastard cants his head.

That's what I said. Corey crosses his arms. So do you know anything or not?

Do you know how many men have come here looking for the same thing? THOUSANDS!

Corey scrunches his face up in confusion. Huh? Like, how is that possible? BourbCo wasn't even a thing until just this past summer.

Thousands!

Oh, ok, ok, whatever. Corey replies dismissively as he realizes he's dealing with weapons grade crazy. I just want to know where they are.

You do not know what you seek. The words are pressed out, and the thong fabric again pushes in and out with each word.

I kinda think I do.

You do NOT! Do you think I always looked like a Smeagol looking motherfucker? Huh? This is what my own pursuit of BourbCo has done to me! The troll thunders, clapping his weird midgety little hand against his chest. BourbCo....you think you know about BOURBCO! Son, BourbCo is the darkness that lays at the corner of your field of vision. It is the void that stares back at the insane and the lost. It is the very dark heart of man! BUT YOU THINK YOU KNOW ABOUT BOURBCO!

Corey takes a step back. Ok, geeze! Maybe I don't....

BourbCo is everything and nothing, the first sin! The serpent in the garden, taunting and tantalizing with it's ripened, luscious fruit! You tell yourself you won't bite, but we ALL bite, oh yes we do! And you'll bite too Corey Smith....

Wait, how do you know my name?

….or maybe you've already bitten? HMMMMM? Is BourbCo already a vile stain on your very soul?! A pox on your entire existence?! CAN YOU FEEL THE NOTHING WELLING UP FROM WITHIN?!

Okay, yeah....uhhhh....I'm just gonna be leaving now.....

Corey turns tail and starts to bolt, but barely makes it 10 feet when the treacherous floor falls away beneath his feet. Corey shouts and is able to grab on to a bent piece of rebar before dropping all the way down to the floor below. Thank God for Lux's training! He tries to scrabble back up, but can't gain any purchase. Oh shit....HELP! HEEEEEELP! He tries again, and almost slips! With another clipped cry, he grunts in frustration. HELP! ROX!

I got you!

Rox appears above Corey and she extends an arm. Corey takes hold of it and Rox clamps her other hand on his bicep, pulling him up and over the lip of the hole. Corey clambers onto solid ground, breathing heavily. Holy shit, that was close. Thank you! Then, he sits up and looks towards the pile of banana hammocks, but the little troll is gone. Did you see a weird little guy wearing a thong on his face?

What? No! What are you on about?

He shakes his head. Nevermind.

Rox finally notices the mountain of BourbCo product. Are those man panties?

They're not “man panties”. That makes it sound...creepy.

Oh, well we wouldn't want that. She scoffs, bracing herself on her elbows. So, what say we take a break from this bullshit and have that grown up discussion before you die chasing some other weird kink?

Would you forget about the thongs! Corey head lolls back and he considers the ceiling as a relenting sigh passes through his lips. Ok, I'm sorry. You're right. I've been avoiding talking about it. He turns towards Rox. I'm ready.

Rox considers Corey, her own features mellowing. I've never had chemistry with anyone like I had with you that night. That was....she whistles.....yeah. And I know you just broke up with VV so....

That's not it though. That's not the problem.

So what IS the problem?

Corey sits up Indian style, worrying the hem of his shirt with his fingers in a nervous display. You know. I was high.

...and?

What do you mean “and”? Jesus Rox, I'm an addict. His voice is plaintive and a touch fearful. And this wasn't just me smoking a little weed to get the “pre-sex jitters” out. I did fucking COCAINE. Co-fucking-CAINE. That's like skipping right past tricycle and training wheels and going right to Kawasaki crotch rocket. Jesus I fucked up so bad.... Corey buries his face in his hands and then runs his fingers through his hair.

Ok. Ok, I get it. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry. I didn't know there was gonna be coke at that party, and that's my fault. But I don't see how that makes what we had any less special.

But you don't understand why I started doing drugs in the first place. I didn't start doing them on a lark. It's because I was really insecure. I did them because.... His eyes start to glisten as he struggles to put the words together....because I was scared I couldn't ever be interesting or loveable without them. And honestly, I wondered in the back of my head if that's why VV broke up with me. Because sober Corey is just nowhere near as cool as high Corey. So when we had sex....like, AMAZING sex, it brought back all those old insecurities again. Like maybe our first time together was only as great as it was because I fell off the wagon.

Corey.... Rox scoots closer to him and sits up indian style in front of him. She takes his hand into hers and looks him in the eye. I think you're amazing no matter what. Sober. High. Standing on your head. I like you for you.

Corey considers her a bit strangely. Shouldn't you be going all after school special on me and telling me not to use drugs?

No. And I'll tell you why Corey Smith. Because I have more respect for you than that. You're an adult Corey. Like, officially. Happy 18th birthday by the way. Thanks for telling me. Ass.

Corey looks away sheepishly.

But it's whatever. Hell, now I can fuck your brains out guilt free. But anyway, I trust you to make your own choices. I'm not your mother, Corey. And I'm not Lux.

His attention returns to her now, and his expression betrays his reticence at her comment, but Rox raises a finger to his lips. Come on, you know it's true. She treats you like a child.

She worries about me. And she has every reason to. It's her body too.

No, it's YOUR body. She pokes the finger into his chest for emphasis. Look, it's not like I HATE Lux or anything. I just feel bad because she's forced so much on you.

I....Corey starts to speak, but loses his train of thought.

Let's table that topic of conversation. She bites her bottom lip playfully. Because honestly danger makes me just a little bit horny and right about now I can't stop thinking about getting past your pants.

Corey smirks. Like, right here, right now?

Rox nods and leans deep into Corey, forcing him to lay back on the floor.

What if the rest of the floor falls apart?

I'll die happy.

Rox starts kissing his neck, and slowly works her way down onto his chest, past his stomach, and then further south. Any remaining protests that Corey had are DOA as we hear the sound of his belt being unbuckled from just off camera. That creepy little midget guy is probably jerking off....

Let him.

Corey's face gets that dumb satisfied little “oh, somebody's touching my PENIS” look on it and he settles in for some fun.

Lux! There you are. What are you.....oh boy.... A familiar voice sounds out.

Corey's eyes shoot open only to see a very embarassed Azrael Erebus standing over him, having appeared from literally out of nowhere. We hear Rox choke just off camera as Corey's face goes flat with pure humiliation. OhJustFuckEverthing....