Throughout the cosmos, there are many parallels to life as we know it on Earth.

This makes no sense, but meh, it's easier to write.

EXPEDITION TO CAT PLANET 4

Robbie, the rest of B.O.B.; Miss Fury, the true mastermind of the XWF, Money Oswald, the richest man in the galaxy, Jenny Myst, the debonair destoyer, Thunder Knuckles, the Relentless one, and Michael Graves, skeevy pedo master of the dark arts, along with the Bourbon Men; Cyberjaw, the man with the cybernetic jaw, Diamondback, the man who can blend into any crowd, Ash, Robbie's stylist, Guy Fieri, right mayor of Flavortown, and Fuchsia, rockin' space babe, are all seen in their cool space travel uniforms in a forest that looks conspicuously like any given one in or around northern Virginia. Buck Ventura, liaison from the Confederation of Planetary Systems, accompanies them.

Well, guys, it's pretty neat that this planet we found not only has breathable oxygen, but it's just like home!

You mean this isn't?

Negative. Captain, didn't you tell your crew about your expedition to Cat Planet 4?

Of course I did, he's stoned. This place is a lot like Earth.

Well, most carbon based life needs similar conditions to thrive. Trees, as you call them, are abundant throughout the universe.

Huh.

That's really neat, Mr. Nerdy Space Alien, but why are we here?

The Confederation of Interplanetary Systems, or CIS, was planning on doing some soil analysis here.

They've landed here before, they just weren't able to set up a base.

Why?

With that, a pair of rat men with what appear to be guns of some type step out from behind two trees, as one does, without being detected even though they look much wider than said trees and there was no real cover. If you've never seen a rat man, it's pretty much in the name, a human with the head of a rat. One might be female, so it might be a rat man and rat woman, but you don't know that much about rat people to tell and it doesn't matter anyway for the purposes of the story.

Nyaaah, stick 'em up!

What's up, doc?

Robbie, B.O.B., and the Bourbon Men all look at each other as the rat people sound exactly like Bugs Bunny.

Woah, Buck, who are these assholes?

They're the Gobobonozos!

That's right!

Da purest in da univoise.

Purest?

Yeah, us Gobobonozos don't tolerate any of you weaker races in space, so we will ship you back to work camps to live as slaves until you die from malnourishment.

Heh, you tell 'em.

Oh, damn. I get it.

Robbie turns to the rest of his people.

They're space Nazis.

Captain, what is a Nazi?

A target!

The worst excuses of humanity.

Evil.

Greedy.

Are we really going to have this discussion right now? The evil rat people want to take us captive!

Hit 'em!

With that, the Gobobonozos open fire on Robbie, B.O.B., and the Bourbon Men, knocking them all unconscious with their stun rays. The two things grab Buck and begin to drag him out of the clearing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several moments later, in the same clearing, we see Miss Fury vigorously trying to roust Robbie, everybody else gone.

Hey! Wake up! Damn it, wake up! They took everybody else and they'll be back any minute!

Robbie's brow furrows.

I need coffee.

Miss Fury rolls her eyes.

No, you doofus, it isn't morning, we're on an alien planet!

I know we're on an alien planet, I still need coffee.

Robbie still hasn't moved a muscle or even opened his eyes.

Well, we gotta get back to the ship!

Robbie's eyes open.

What?

Yeah, we get back to the ship, and we get back to Earth, and we recruit up a new team, one that hasn't been abducted by aliens to be slaves until they die.

Robbie shakes his head 'no'. He sits up suddenly.

What, you want to wait here until they come back and go be a slave with them?

The incredulity of Miss Fury is met by a stern gaze from Robbie.

Get real.

Then let's go! We can survive!

Robbie's eyes narrow at Miss Fury. Miss Fury rolls hers.

Oh, don't give me any of this hogwash about how we need them, we need to get out of here, it's what any one of the members of B.O.B. would do!

Not me.

Robbie gets to his feet.

You really had no idea who you were recruiting when you spoke to me.

For starters, Thunder Knuckles is my friend. Jenny Myst is spunky and adorable, like the antagonizing little sister I never had. Oswald is so loveable and decent he's like another Barney. Graves is, well...

Robbie sighs.

Nobody deserves to die in a labor camp, especially one that's going to grow an evil empire.

Then there's the Bourbon Men, my closest friends. Cyberjaw and Diamondback have been with me for decades. Ash is the other antagonizing little sister I never had. Guy Fieri is a national treasure. And Fuchsia...

Robbie looks intent.

They took my girlfriend.

Miss Fury looks taken aback.

But, you don't know how many there are, or what they're even capable of! The smart thing is to take off now!

Robbie looks at Fury.

I don't care. I know leaving is the smart thing.

Since when have I been known as a strategist, though?

Clever, however, I have in spades. Wit. The ability to think on the fly, to adapt, to change, and to accept new problems as they happen. I have a knack for not only thriving when everything goes haywire and ass up, but shit, I'm damn good at making things go haywire and ass up at times against the appropriate agents.

So what do we know.

Gobobonozos use fear and intimidation and stun rays to capture slaves. They're arrogant enough to think they'll get away with whatever they do without retaliation, and I'm willing to lay even money they demonize whatever does stand up to them.

I will be their demon.

I will be their boogeyman.

I will be the stuff of their propaganda, of their fears, of their folklore, their promised end.

They'll turn and reassure each other that they're doing the right thing. The only sensible thing. The thing that needs to happen. That the oppression of others is completely justifiable as long as they're comfortable, happy, fat, and ignorant of most of it.

And I will bring them all the discomfort, unhappiness, and hunger of the universe by wiping out their ignorance.

Do you know why I joined B.O.B., Fury? Do you even understand why I'm vilified? It's not because I take candy from babies, it's not because I twirl a mustache and leave damsels on train tracks, and it's not because I cheat at wrestling matches or get violent while fighting. It's because the corrupt, the indignant, and the liars have spread the word that I'm just not a good person, that I don't know right from wrong, and that I'm not to be trusted. They do that because they know I will tear them and their establishment down, brick by brick, with my bare hands, so the light of truth and justice will shine down on all people, everywhere.

I'm a revolutionary and a liberator by nature, and breaking their constraints scares them.

It doesn't matter if it's a bunch of armed goons on Earth patrolling a polling place on election day lest one voice utter a single 'Black Lives Matter', the fearmongering talking heads on FOXNews, the fools pissed off they can't take a Confederate flag to a NASCAR event anymore, Nathaniel Idenhaus and his up-until-recently flagrant white supremacy, or space rat people.

I disrupt the status quo. I do so by pissing in it's Cheerios.

Fury is absolutely gobsmacked. He face contorts and she opens her mouth, as if to speak, but nothing comes out. She closes her mouth, taught, teeth clenched. She snorts.

You're going to get me killed.

No, no I won't.

As Robbie says this, the sound of something moving in the trees is heard. Robbie steps between Fury and the area of the noise. Suddenly, into the clearing, standing some ten feet tall, and looking to weigh three tons, is a giant cat.

















Shit!

You're going to get me killed on Cat Planet 4.

The cat lays on the ground and rolls onto it's back. Robbie starts rubbing it's tummy.

Aw, it's a fluffy! Hiya!

That thing will eat you!

I'm the top predator in the universe, Fury, pretty sure I can braise this thing in brandy and marmalade and serve it with a side of fries if I felt so inclined. But I'm not going to eat a big sweetie like you, am I?

The cat rolls back over and looks at Robbie, purring.


















Miss Fury looks in awe as Robbie befriends, of all things, an enormous cat. The words *NEW BOURBON MAN ALERT* scroll across the bottom of the screen.

I'ma call you Biscuits.

That's, uh, great and all, but how does this help our situation?

Robbie smirks.

Ever see He-Man?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the Gobobonozo base, we see a ton of activity. Massive pens made of barbed wire house hundreds, all busy digging into the surface of the planet. Shuttles touch down, bringing more slaves into view as they are herded into the pens. One cries, obviously a child of her species. She is quickly whisked away by two Gobobonozos and in front of the procession is shot in the head. The rest of the slaves, in utter terror and anguish, continue to shuffle into the pens where they'll be a part of the mining operations.

From the treeline, we see the forced march of all the captive members of B.O.B. and the Bourbon Men along with the two Gobobonozos that have their weapons trained on them.

Seriously, why don't you just use your magic powers?

That actually sounds like a good idea.

Okay.

Graves disappears in a puff of green smoke. The Gobobonozos freak out.

What was that?

I think he left us.

Did he die? We never saw any ugly things like you before, you look like hairless apes!

We are, kind of.

Yeah, he definitely left us here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We see Michael Graves sitting beachside in Waikiki, sipping on some kind of beverage served in a whole pineapple, wearing a straw hat and luau shirt over his mask and wrestling gear. He looks at the camera.

What?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back at the Gobobonozo base, the Bourbon Men and B.O.B. are herded into the pen with the rest of the slaves. Guy Fieri looks at the Gobobonozos en masse.

You know, when my boy Robbie gets here, he's going to turn you all into mulch, spoon it into tortillas, top it with a rich, secret recipe queso, and serve you up made to order!

The Gobobonozos looks frustrated at this. They separate Guy from the bunch and pull him out of the pen. One of the rat people kicks him in the back of the knee, sending him into a kneeling position hard as he grunts.

*grunt*

The rat person sneers as it raises it's gun to the back of Guy Fieri's head. Facing sure death, Guy Fieri proudly begins orating.

TWO ALL BEEF PATTIES
SPECIAL SAUCE
LETTUCE
CHEESE
PICKLES
ONIONS
ON A SESAME SEED BUN!

The great rallying cry of Flavortown rings throughout the Gobobonozo Death Camp.

Eh, stupid gekrose gibberish.

Just end him already!

Woah, hold on.

What's a gekrose?

You're a gekrose!

I think it's a racial slur.

Cyberjaw looks highly indignified.

I am not!

Listen, gekrose, we'll shoot you in the head like we're going to shoot the flamboyantly dressed man with the glasses on the back of his head and a little too much product in his hair.

Yeah, you filthy gekrose are all the same, just putting glasses on wrong and frosting your tips.

Damn gekrose, I hate gekrose, and once we run the entire universe and have purified it for Gobobonozo life by exterminating all gekrose, the universe will know peace!

Thunder Knuckles looks up at Oswald.

You're right, it's a racial slur.

Oswald looks back at Thunder Knuckles and nods his head in agreement. In fact, all the the Bourbon Men and B.O.B. all silently give kudos to Oswald for figuring out gekrose was considered to be highly offensive and insulting. The Gobonozos look on angrily.

Shut up! Say goodbye to your friend!

Dat's all, folks!

Ahem.

The camera spins to show Robbie walking into the camp. His shoulders are squared, chin tucked, fists clenched. The entire Gobobonozo force, some fourty in all, look on in shock.

I'ma fuck all of y'all up.

The Gobobonozos all laugh. They all point their weapons at him, when from behind him, Miss Fury bounds in on Biscuits, who looks at all the rat people like they're just prey.


















The Gobobonozos all fire, but their weapons can't pierce the hide nor just plain adorableness of Biscuits. Biscuits swipes at one of the rat people, slicing it clear in half vertically with a massive claw. The two split halves of the creature twitch on the ground. Robbie snaps his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

*smooch*smooch*

From the trees, more giant cats emerge.









That one shows up.


















There's that one too.





















And that one.























...sure, why not.


The giant cats begin to just chase down and devour all the Gobobonozos. Robbie runs to the pen and opens it wide. Fuchsia runs to him immediately and kisses him. The slaves all break out from their pens, and luckily the giant cats seem to know not to eat or attack them at all because they're like the eagles in Lord of the Rings or something that knew exactly who the bad guys were on arrival.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shit, looks like you coulda at least denied being the worst Hart Champion of all time.

But you didn't.

You just weened out, you didn't care about doing battle.

You just want to escape. With your career and maybe the Hart Championship?

Eh, you don't care about either at this point.

Idenhaus, you're done. Finito. An ex-performer on Warfare.

I'll beat your ass so bad that even if you're gone for a century they'll find your DNA around here.

Because this Wednesday, it's falls count anywhere.

I can take you into Vinnie's office and Robbiebomb you through his desk, spilling his papers and drugs everywhere.

I can take you into catering and have a snack after putting your back to concrete so hard and fast you'll be a part of it. Shit, I will make you bounce off of concrete.

I can go with so many different holds and maneuvers. Sure, you have a few too, but you ripped yours off playing crappy video games and thinking they looked cool.

Also, I checked out your roster page, you're like a boss from a 90's fighting game that never took off. Like even the names of your shit sound like something Shang Tsung would be shouting as Goro whooped some kid's ass on the Super Nintendo in some Mortal Kombat.

"Shadoo uf de Vulf!"

"Der Monshtair Vittin!"

"Dahmnashun!"

"Curst!"

Robbie rolls his eyes.

The best part of it is we're doing it in your Fatherland.

And you better fucking believe that the people of Frankfurt hate Nazis as much as I do. You're going to be wrestling in front of actual Ultras fans! Those guys are ANTIFA as fuck!

Now, I know what you're saying, America.

ANTIFA is evil.

It's not. It's short for Antifascist. Anybody with any common sense is, by default, antifascist.

Saying that antifascists are evil means you side with fascists.

It's simple.

That said, since most of you out there already know that, because hey, I'm not the smart one, y'all are, I'm just the clever one, let's get back to talking about the Nazi shithead I'll be wrecking.

Nate Idenhaus's balls are so small he once lost them under the sofa.

Idenhaus's balls are so small he can use a thimble as a cup.

Idenhaus has balls so tiny they have room for one hair follicle.

Idenhaus has balls so miniscule they can rest on a pinhead. Comfortably.

Idenhaus has balls so itsy bitsy he can hide them with legos.

I know, I know, those were all pretty weak. Those were pretty lame. I admit, it's hard for me to bust Nate's balls.

Because the man flat out doesn't have any.

Idenhaus, the fucking eunuch, neutered for purity and to control the pet population when he goes bow wow at the moon and fucks a German Shepherd.

I'm willing to bet you turn into your dog form just to get mounted by Dobermans, doncha.

Damn, this is like taking a jackhammer to Silly Putty.

Look, Nate, you try to convince the world you're scary, and that you're some kind of monster. Nah. Not to me. I make you go bump in the Wednesday Night Warfare, but the only thing about you that will scare anybody after our match are your bruises, because they're going to ask what kind of animal hit you. See, I built a reputation of being a monster, Nate. I don't insist on it, I don't flaunt it, I don't have to, it's well fucking known, well fucking documented, well fucking acknowledged that when I clock in for the day, say hi to the folks in the back setting up, bullshit with the boys, take my lunch break, then my music hits and I actually go to work, the people know, the people in Frankfort know, everybody in the whole fucking universe knows, someone is getting fucking wrecked. The whole fucking world knows what I'm going to do in that ring, quite possibly, is not something any man should do, and that's when the whole world stops and senses that I must be the big bad, big bad of big bads, the fucking monster with the mouth, breathing fire and ravaging the competition, leaving them dick-in-hand, on their back, following a referee telling me three seconds passed.

And then I walk away the Hart Champion, Warfare MVP.

And you, well, got defanged.