A shot at one of two titles?

Who would pass up a chance like this?

FAT CHANCE

We cut to the set where we see Thunder Knuckles in a bald cap with a monocle in a tuxedo standing beside Robbie, dressed like this.



You know what, XWF, it's time we were heard, because when it comes to the battle royale at Savage, I'm the only one with a chance.

Fat Chance.

Robbie smirks smugly. Looking down his nose at the camera, he snorts.

Fat Chance is ready to monopolize the wrestling world!

Robbie nods in approval.

That's right, Mr. Moneybags.

I'm Fat Chance, and I'm here to make sure the rest of the XWF takes a ride on the Short Line to the outside of the ring.

You think I'm going to lose on Savage?

Fat Chance!

After I toss out all comers, I will advance token to Board Walk all over the champion of my choosing and take home one of the greatest prizes in the XWF today!

The rest of you chumps will just have to go back three spaces.

Because at Savage, I will have the entire ring on lockdown. My opponents will go directly to jail, they will not pass go, they will not collect two-hundred dollars.

Now, I'm not just beating my community chest either.

I've got the skills that will pay a dividend of fifty dollars.

Robbie sneers. TK, as Mr. Moneybags, points at the camera.

And that's not just a series of lines taken from a board game we found.

Robbie shakes his head no, slowly. The sneer disappears as he looks intently at the camera.

That's a promise.

You see, when I get into a battle royale, none of you will get free parking. I'm a dynamo in that ring, like the whole electric company, and the rest of the losers in the ring will be turning on the water works, crying about how they pulled the wrong card when they landed on my spot.

So to the rest of the XWF, consider yourself on notice.

Because I'm coming to make general repairs on ALL your property!

It doesn't matter who shows up for this. It's all just a roll of the dice for them.

I don't care if you're an evil fishmonger, an excited race car driver, a demented dentist, a plumber, a wild magician, a mean hockey player, a dangerous clown, or any of the bevy of possible competitors that could come down to that ring in the spring of 1995, because we're ready to party like it's 1999!

Robbie stands, arms akimbo, hands on hips. TK laughs then points at the screen.

Do you think any one of you is going to get in the way of Money Oswald and his derailment of Idenhaus?

Robbie shakes his head no.

Wait, am I going to win the number one contender spot when I'm already going to win the championship?

TK, far more intensely, balls a fist.

Do any of you even have the ability to go toe to toe with the Relentless One himself, Thunder Knuckles, and even try to take the Television Title from him?

Robbie glances back at TK.

Well, I mean, I would be grand slam champ.

Without looking at Robbie, TK addresses the camera.

Yeah but would anybody want to cause a massive rift in B.O.B., ruining our plans of world domination, insane wealth and power, over it?

Well, I mean...

TK rolls his eyes. Robbie sighs.

Fat Chance.

Robbie looks disappointed, like a kid who was denied a candy bar by his mom at the store. Not incredibly dejected, but definitely let down. The monocle falls out of TK's eye socket.

Shit!

Hey, pal, this is family friendly programming!

No, no it isn't.

Well, the sauciest thing on TV back then was Red Shoe Diaries, so I guess I'm skewed.

True.

Well, fact is, I'm entering this Battle Royale, well, for the sake of B.O.B. and our Bobbles and Bobbies everywhere. They wanna see B.O.B. go to work. They wanna see B.O.B. get shit done. They wanna see B.O.B. do some damage.

And to knock off anybody trying to challenge me. Or you.

Clever.

Clever like a fox.

That's right!

What?

Both Fat Chance and Mr. Moneybags have joined B.O.B.!

The words "NEW B.O.B. ALERT" scroll across the bottom of the screen in some dead space within the shot that had been nagging you for some reason until now. Now you're glad you noticed the dead space and you feel much more contented you saw that. What follows, is the message "FAT CHANCE FOR THE REST OF THE XWF".

So to the rest of you morons who plan on coming to the ring, the nimrods who think they have good odds, who think fortune is in their favor, who think they're a prospect with a shot of getting through my man here...

Robbie's eyes nearly bulge out of his sockets as he flexes his delts and makes a silly face that's supposed to be intense but really looks like he's blowing out birthday candles.

FAT CHANCE!