Somewhere in Manhattan, New York, January 16th, 2022.

It's broad daylight and you can't tell exactly where they are, as the camera crew catches up with TK. He notices the crew and immediately looks disappointed seeing them now of all times. As the camera crew gets closer you hear TK talking shit to them.

Why now? For real, I have shit to do! You assholes always show up at the wrong goddamn time. Do you know that?

The camera crew remains quiet like they always do. TK mutters under his breath barely being able to be heard.

You probably do, shit bags.

TK's voice gets louder.

Shit! Edit out the goddamn street name and make sure nothing can be traced back here. You fucking got it? I'll kill your entire families, piss on their goddamn bodies, and dance because I'll be happy. So make sure that doesn't happen, alright.

The cameraman shakes his head yes in compliance knowing that TK has a history of killing cameramen.

Well, we know where the cameraman lies. What about you fucks?

The camera never catches their reactions but you can tell by TK's demeanor that they comply. TK waves them into an alleyway. After an undetermined amount of steps, occasional skips, and side steps, TK, makes the camera crew look down on the ground.

Look at the ground, fuck sticks! No one can know where this is.

They do as their told and look down, even pointing the camera at the ground. TK does something that the camera doesn't catch and instructs the camera crew that can once again look up.

Alright, mother fuckers, let's go.

As the camera comes up you notice an advanced evaluator shaft has been opened on the pavement. It's big enough for TK and the camera crew to get in.

Strap in and hold onto your goddamn asses, boys. This shit, right here, is fast as free American air.

One of the camera crew can be heard.

What?

Just make sure you fucking strapped in.

TK straps himself in as does the camera crew. Once strapped in TK presses a button that shoots the into what was once BOB's underground headquarters. As the lights rapidly pass by the camera lens TK is sure to point out some things.

By no means, if this makes it on XWF television, do I, or XWF, take responsibility for any triggered epileptic episodes. What I'm getting at here is don't be weak ass pussy and control your fucking bodies.

The 613 mile per hour ride comes to an end. TK unstraps and notices the cameraman pissed himself.

Jesus Christ, dude, remember the whole control you bodies shit? I just said it. Follow me I'll get you to a bathroom.

The hallways are dark but as TK takes the lead the lights come on as he walks like they are remotely activated by motion.

Pretty goddamn dope, right? Yeah, we had it all. Badass tech, hot bitches, almost all the titles, and then Someone had to fuck it all up.

As they continue down this long hallway the hallway lights still turning on about 7 feet in front of them at a time. All of a sudden Mr. BOB can be seen, which scares the shit out of TK.

HOLY FUCK!

TK with fist drawn way back.

You scared the shit out of me, Mr. BOB.

TK takes a second to collect himself.

Collecting data.

Damnit, are you busted again?

Collecting data.

Alright, come on.

Mr. BOB joins the party as they head to the supercomputer room. Once they reach their destination TK hooks Mr. BOB up to the computer with an OSWALD CORP priority cable.

Pretty smart of Ozzy to make this shit priority if you ask me.

As the cable is attached, the computer comes alive, lighting up the room with its giant holographic and interactable screen.

BOOM! This is what I came here for! Alright...

TK cracks his knuckles and starts grabbing holographic files with his hands. Tossing them left and right on the giant screen. As he's doing this files begin printing out of OSWALD CORP copying machine.

Perfect. Yeah, that could work.

TK is still grabbing files and tossing them most to the left and very few to the right. A notification pops up that reads: "Project: Reanimation" TK tosses to the left with impunity. This sparks an idea, however.

For once, mother fuckers,-

TK looks at the cameraman.

I'm glad you're here.

TK looks back into the holographic monitor and begins to work again.

All of this started at Relentless when the end came. Through its deceit captured the hearts and minds of the XWF fans around the world. The Brotherhood looked for a way but found no options. Those in charge looked ahead for bright skies but now they must walk in fucking gloom. As the roster fumbles like the blind walking without a cane, feeling their way with no eyes. WE were destined to fall even in our brightest days and now we stumble as if it was dark.

TK takes a deep breath and exhales.

We are amongst the living yet we are like the dead.

TK is still grabbing files and moving them either to the left or the right. The copying machine is as fast as ever.

We looked for our justice but it never came. So, I, Myself, am stepping in to save you all with strong arms and my own brand of justice to sustain us all.

A shifty grin forms on TK's face.

I'll put on wickedness, as my armor. I'll put on damnation, as my helmet. As I wear my goddamn clothing of vengeance I will wrap XWF in disbelief as I once again break the sea of glass and separate it, just like Moss did.

An extremely evil twinkle in TK's eyes can be caught, if you're paying attention.

XWF, you wanted peace? Well, for the first time WE gave it to you. Now, it's time WE offer what we're best at.

TK dramatically pauses for just the right amount of time.

Pain.

TK finishes what he was doing on the monitor and looks back at the camera calm as a cucumber.

These very hands hold all the stars and the roster is all sentenced to wear OUR scars. It's hatred that purchased this mutinist's heart. I'm just a prophet and I envision badness living in mankind once again. For this reason, I am a fucking legend predestined for greatness. I was built for the final hour, I was born for this responsibility.

TK pauses for that to sink in for the XWF fans around the world.

At Fire and Ice with weapons in hand and my armor in place. I march to the beat of a familiar fucking drum. I have broken through battlelines with my brothers. Those very same goddamn battlelines have been drawn by others with discouragement and despair. What more is left to be said? Jason Cashe your time has met its proverbial end. It's now or never for you but a collision with me is more than you've ever asked for. My mission today, tomorrow, at the Pay-Per-View, and after is crystal goddamn clear. I'm going to wake the damn dead so that our song rages on into the future. For the loyal watching, you're not abandoned, you're not alone. The faithful will ARISE from yesterday's ashes, and raise their fist with us once again. WE are the army that's charging the land, the navy that will sink you goddamn ships, and WE will control the airwaves again. Defeat is no longer a goddamn option.

TK gets up and heads to the copying machine. He grabs the papers and some folders. When he grabs the folders Mr. BOB has seemingly fixed himself with the help of the supercomputer.

Thunder Knuckles.

Ah, there you are! I'm glad you're online again. put these in order as fast as you can so I can review them.

Mr. BOB walks over and quickly goes to work.

I knew you'd be back, Thunder Knuckles. Where is Bobby? I will begin preparing his sandwiches.

TK's eyes show disappointment because he's still unable to go looking.

He’d like that Mr. BOB but I don't know where he is. I still have to find him but Bobby knows how important this is. It's time to put Project: bbb into full effect.

TK walks over to a long table. He takes a seat at the head of it and makes himself comfortable. Mr. BOB walks over a stack of rejected files for review so there are no mistakes. TK scans them quickly before reaching the name Corey Smith and tosses it over his shoulder.

Bitch, please.

TK still going over the rejected files before seeing a name that he had forgotten. It's blurred out as for TK's wishes as he sits it to the side.

How did this end up in the rejected list?

TK thinks back to all the attempts he made before.

I had to at least have tried to get this guy six hundred and sixty-ish damn times. Hell, what's another, right?

TK says with a shit-eating grin. Mr. BOB walks over with a stack of files.

You have a lot of work to do.

TK rolls his eyes because he hates work.

I know, Mr. BOB.

Would you like assistance?

I think I got it for now. I might need some soon. Go hook back up and see if there is any I missed.

The first file on the top of the list is Bobby Bourbon's personal choice Charlie Nickles. TK thinks about it and puts it to the side with the mysterious folder that still remains blurred out. The camera catches a few names on folders such as Phantom Panzer, Marf, Ned Kaye, and Thaddeus Duke. These folders are almost immediately moved to the rejected pile.

Oh, what's this?

A file with the name [Redacted Universal Champion] comes across his hands.

Unreliable.

TK tosses it over his shoulder as to not even be considered. The next folder says, Miss Fury. TK pauses for a moment and opens it before noticing a stamp over the top of her picture that reads: Deceased.

Well, that dog just doesn't hunt, does it? Oh, well.

TK places the folder into the rejected pile.

This is going to take for-fucking-ever!

TK's cell phone rings, he looks at the caller I.D. and sees that it's Jimmy calling him. He reluctantly answers.

What?

Jimmy can't be heard but you can damn sure believe by the look on TK's face. That Jimmy is reminding him that he has a match at Fire and Ice.

I know, Jimmy! It's to be the number one contender for the Xtreme Championship. Hold on I'm going to put you on speaker.

TK places the phone down on the table and presses the speakerphone button.

Alright, go.

Right. It's Jason Cashe. Half the tag team DOA.

I know who I'm fighting! Plus, Bourbon fucking named their team. Goddamn, I have a lot of shit to do, Jimmy. Get to the point.

Has the camera crew shown up yet?

TK looks at the cameraman.

Yeah, the cameraman pissed his pants.

Okay, they won't be there long just make sure you wreck that asshole so we can move on, yeah?

TK smiles into the camera knowing Jimmy even knows this is a waste of time.

I got you, Jimmy.

TK hangs up and remembers he was supposed to show the cameraman where the bathroom is. TK looks over at Mr. BOB who hasn't hooked back up to the supercomputer yet.

Yo, Mr. BOB, show this piss-soaked asshat where the bathroom is.

Follow me.

When you get back we'll finish this shit up.

The camera is shut off so the cameraman can clean himself up.

The camera turns back on. TK is still doing work but takes a little break to talk about matters at hand.

Jason, my dude! XWF fans pay attention because this guy knows what's up! I noticed you tearing shit up on Anarchy with those big wins you've strung together! I'm proud of you! Seriously, I am! Unfortunately, though, this isn't the walk in the park you've been accustomed to having here in XWF. You're in the ring with someone who knows what the fuck to do and when to fucking do it.

Mr. BOB walks over and hands TK a beer.

Thanks, Mr. BOB. This isn't exactly where we expected to be, is it? Too fucking bad too because there's nothing more than I'd like than to avenge that loss from September. I guess, breaking you down bit by bit in a singles match will have to do.

TK cracks the beer open and takes a drink.

Sometimes shit is out of our control but something that is in our control is Fire and Ice. Where I'll be standing across the ring from you for the chance to be the number one contender to the Xtreme Championship. Absolutely no shit-ass rules to stop us. This fucking works for me because the last time we were in a match with rules. You guys didn't exactly follow them and had help from OCW's prized princess Mario. At least this time we're on even footing, yeah?

TK pulls out one of his signature cigars and lights it before taking another drink of his cold refreshing beer.

Hell, I don't hold it against you. You are a Bastard after all.

TK puffs on his cigar knowing how true that statement is.

I've seen you in the gym, bro. Doing all those curls and shit trying to get ready for this match. I mean, shit! That's dedication.

TK takes a drink for his beer.

I'll tell you what. You can keep all that exercise shit. I'd rather go in there and do what I do best. Fight till the fucking end. Again we have no rules in this one. Ol' Thunder Knuckles might just bring down that cheese grater from Bad Medicine. I think it still has pieces of your damn forehead stuck in there. Hell, what's stopping my ass from bringing down a goddamn taser and hitting you with that shit for a fast one-two-three? Nothing, point blank, period but COME ON! What fun would that be?

TK winks into the camera as he takes a puff of his cigar.

There's no doubt in my mind that you're going to call into question that I've been in the tag division for so long. Mostly because my best friend Bobby Big Bastard Bourbon and myself were so dominant. Hell, both our tag titles were taken off us through cheating. That's a fact. None of that matters now though because this isn't a tag match. Just like the fact that you can be in a millions Hall of Fames. I'll be stepping into the ring across from someone, not a somebody. Yeah, yeah, yeah, You beat Them No Good Bastards with the help of your partner. Nope, the only thing we have is our house's name. To show dominance over the other houses. That's exactly what House Diamond is going to do. Are you shitting me? Ruby, Peter Vaughn, Elijah Martin, and the granddaddy of violence Barney Green. Is there even a doubt who put together the best house? Big props, Derrick.

Mr. BOB walks over with a plate as TK looks confused while puffing on his cigar.

Bobby's Funnel Cake tuna sandwich with pepper jack cheese smothered in caramelized onion, but not much cheese.

TK looks over at Mr. BOB.

Are you still fucking broken or something?

Mr. BOB walks off prompting TK to shake his head and get back to business.

Hell, you even had the help of your tag team partner when it came time to beat me down while I was dressed like an elf. What's wrong you can't take care of shit yourself, Cashe? Now, this isn't the ballsy mother fucker I remember from OCW. Plus, I paid a lot of money for that badass elf custom, goddamn it! Now it's fucking ruin't and you'll pay for that shit at Fire and Ice.

TK finishes his beer as he does Mr. BOB walks back over and hand TK a beer.

Have to love that programing, bro. Thanks, Mr. BOB.

TK cracks open his new beer and like any true drunk, he takes another drink before continuing.

Maybe with your new beard, by the way, fucking dope. Respect. Anyway, maybe that softens the blows I'll be delivering to that damn chin of yours. Who knows-

TK shrugs like he doesn't care either way.

Maybe it doesn't. I suppose we're just going to have to find out. Shit, you sure gave Ozzy the lip service when you said you were stepping in the ring with you guessed it, yours truly. To find out if your previous victory was a fluke and the same moment is available for the taking. What? Did you really think Jimmy didn't make me watch the tape? Come on, bro. You're smarter than that. Do I need to roll the tape on what happened? I do have that power you know. Todd put up that shit on the screen.

Todd puts four baby turtles on the screen covered in radioactive goo.





Sike! I'm not wasting any time like that. If they want to see that shit they'll switch providers and watch it on OCW's streaming services. Even though the services are good, XWF's still has more to offer. That's why Cashe is here.

TK winks into the camera and gives a thumbs up knowing his paycheck is still safe.

Maybe after this is all over we can go grab a beer-

TK stubs out what's left of his cigar and raises his bottle of beer toward the camera for Jason.

-and talk shit on the Icelanders' weird-ass accents. I think we're done here, boys. Cut that shit off.

The cameraman abruptly cuts the feed.