Robbie Bourbon was recently picked up in his brand spanking new helicopter, which is totally awesome. Blue, Robbie's girlfriend and handler, is piloting the vehicle. Bearded War Pig is seated in the cabin along with Robbie, the door wide open.

Robbie pulls his phone out and his eyes go wide.

We got an Amber Alert!

Where?

Hold on!

Robbie plays with his phone for a minute as BWP pulls out a chrome plated AR-15 with a bayonette attached. After a second he looks up.

Five miles west of here, they think the kidnapper is headed east in a red Jeep!

Robbie looks at BWP, who is locked and loaded, along with currently attaching a scope to his rifle.

I see the red Jeep!

BWP leans out of the door, peering through the scope.

I have visual. Ready to shoot.

Standby!

I have the shot!

Do you see the kid?

Yeah.

Okay, distance to target?

400 yards and closing.

Robbie looks and realizes he doesn't have a gun. He then sees a cable and wench. He ties one end of the wench around himself, and kicks a crank on the box holding the length of cable.

On your go signal!

I have the shot, closing, 200 yards.

We go at 100 yards.

100 yards!

Robbie dives backwards out of the other side of the helicopter from BWP. Pig fires. We see the Jeep on the ground below. Inside the driver, a creepy looking guy with skin like unground parmesan cheese, a fluffy face with deep set, soulless eyes, a mess of greasy blond hair, essentially looking just like Chris "Cut A Promo And I'll Talk About It" Chaos, turns and screams at a young boy.

Look, if you don't shut up, I have something to jam in your...

In a flash, the man's head turns into red pulp due to BWP's perfect aim, and Robbie Bourbon whips down into the open, coverless jeep, scoops the boy, then is pulled back up into the chopper as the cable retracts itself. The convergence of perfect flying, shooting, and balls out crazy fuckery all creating the perfect rescue. The Jeep careens off the road, doing a flip, and landing topside down in a ditch. It explodes spectactularly. Blue brings the chopper down gently on the stretch of highway as police cruisers head towards them.

It's alright, buddy, you're okay, you'll be back with your family in no time.

BWP smiles at the kid and gives him a thumbs up. Robbie places him gently in an empty seat and buckles the safety belt.

He's right. That guy won't hurt you.

As soon as the chopper is down, the boy unbuckles his seatbelt. A police cruiser pulls up and a woman jumps out of the front of the vehicle and runs up.

MOM!

The little boy embraces his mother, who knees to greet him, tears streaming from her eyes. A bevy of cops surround them both as Blue steps out of the pilot's seat and walks over to speak with an officer while holding up a badge of some sort.

Hey, uh, look, you go talk with the cops and let them know what happened, they like you better. I have something to do.

Gotcha.

Robbie and BWP clasp hands and perform the ornate handshake shared by the Motherfuckers. Pig then walks over to the cops, his weapon slung over his shoulder. Robbie turns to the camera.

Wow, that was a little exciting there for a minute.

I mean, good thing us Motherfuckers were there.

Not just to save the kid and all, but also to kick the living shit out of Chubby Pete and Chris "I Have Nothing To Say" Chaos.

Now, I know Chris "Promo Promo Promo!" Chaos thinks the promos are the key to a wrestling match.

They're cool and all, sell some tickets, but they're not a wrestling match.

A match is where I bend Chris "Flexible Wood" Chaos like a bow and shoot Chubby Pete into a cage wall over and over again until Chubby Pete has lost enough weight. Lost enough weight by having parts of him ripped away. Chubby Pete is going to look shredded after our match, because he will literally be shredded.

Now I know he's going to come forward in the eleventh hour or such, telling me he wished I was dead, that he's not fat, I'm fat, and that at Warfare he will do a thing and that thing will be deadly because of something he'll SHOUT and super dicks and hot wife and XTREME! Then he'll do something sadistically, like wipe his ass or eat an entire banana.

Jesus, Chris "Please Pay Attention To What I Say When I Say Nothing" Chaos, you think my act is tired and rehashed?

Have you even ever heard of your partner?

I mean, after how long, after all the shit I've dished out about you, and let's face facts, when it comes to dishing up an XWF superstar you'll nary find a meaner, nastier, more ruthless sumbitch of a flamethrower up in this place than me. You've pointed it out all fucking week, you'll probably point it out again. I have insulted you. But after all that, all I said, how is it you're that fucking soft and spineless that you just sat there through it?

You haven't mustered a single fucking comeback yet.

Chris "Oh You Only Say That Because You Hate Yourself" Chaos, the walking fucking twig, getting roasted and burned while telling himself that he's fine. This is fine.



Son, you've been turned into fucking coals at this point. The only thing you have to offer up is that I hate myself? That I'm being juvenile?

What are you, the principal of an unaccredited school?

Shit, those guys are less boring than your silly ass. Probably pull more muff than you ever could.

Imagine, some dork who has nothing better to do than be a backup babysitter to teachers in a shitty school that has more drop outs than the Chris "I Evolved Into This Piece of Garbage From Something That Was Useful Once" Chaos fan club is more likely to get his dick sucked in the near future than you are.

Hold on, what about Jenny Myst?

Robbie holds up a sign. Where he was keeping it, I have no clue.



Oh, hiya Jenny! According to Chris "Don't Let One Hand Know What The Other Is Doing" Chaos, you're the hottest woman in the XWF. I know you're the person Chris "It's Not Underhanded It's One Handed" Chaos loves you, finds you to be the most charismatic and intoxicating of lovers, and thinks everybody wants to fuck you.

I get it that Chris "How Many Dicks Have I Put In My Jenny Hand" Chaos sees a bright future between the two of you, and frankly, Chris "Vaginas Are Complicated!" Chaos would rather have you wrapped firmly, warmly, and securely around his PENIS than an actual, factual woman. Chris "I Like To Lick My Hand Clean After" Chaos really doesn't care what any of us think when he can satisfy himself to completion ten times out of ten, jerking himself off to feel happy for a fleeting second.

Until he remembers ole' Robbie and Pig are less than twenty four hours away from ripping the tag titles away from him and Chubby Pete. The Gaggin' 69ers, always ready to choke.

So save your sermons, take your show on a lecture circuit, go join the fucking debate club. This is the XWF, not some tip-toe through fucking wordplay.

Blue walks up.

I wouldn't screw Chris Chaos with a Phillips-head screwdriver.

I wouldn't bone Chris Chaos if he were a rack of ribs.

I wouldn't touch Chris Chaos.

Robbie looks at Blue.

You wouldn't touch Chris "I Love Me Why Won't Anybody Else?" Chaos, and...

Robbie waves his hand around, waiting for a punchline.

Oh, I just wouldn't touch Chris Chaos. That's it.

Oh, and Peter Gilmour is so fat his dick is an innie.

You mean Peter Gilmour is so fat his shits take an extra forty minutes to find their way out of his ass?

I mean Peter Gilmour is so fat the people at KFC have a running tab for him.

And Pizza Hut.

And Golden Corral.

Nice, good job, you made Golden Corral funny, at least someone did.

Blue turns and gets on her tip toes as Robbie leans in to a peck on the cheek. Robbie retaliates with a pinch of the booty. Blue squeaks, smiles, and blushes. Robbie winks at her.