(OOC: All characters appearing or referenced by storyline were asked for and gave permission to appear in this story. :D )
Hey Kids.
It’s your old pal, Mark Flynn. How are you?
This style… It’s a throwback for me.
I used to talk to you directly all the time. Way back in 2013, there was a push to occupy a room for a promo, y’know what I mean? Walk around, act out your trash talk with your hands, maybe bring a prop.
Now in 2022? We’ve gone back to Alias just talking in a dark room. Along with Peter Vaughn. Jenny Myst. Thaddio. Corey Smith.
The trend came back around.
I just want you to understand where I’m coming from. I’ve been around so long, it feels like I’ve been here since the dawn of time.
You kids nowadays act like you’re pushing the industry in bold new directions. Like we’ve never danced this dance before…
The more things change, kids. The more they’ve stayed the same…
The Optimal Path I walk isn’t a straight line, youngins.
It’s a circle.
FOR EXAMPLE.
Back at the start of the year 2013, there was a new batch of… oddballs. XWF seemed to pick up its latest batch of hires DIRECTLY from the insane asylum.
…I’m not even kidding. There was a 16 man tournament for the US Title. And like half of these losers cut promos in straight jackets, from padded rooms.
And, I cut a promo.
Pointing out to these kids that it’s not impressive to ‘play crazy’... in a house with an abundance of crazy.
You know what I mean? These kids wanted to show off how crazy they are. So they went to a crazy place.
But, CRAZY. Can take place anywhere. I BROUGHT crazy to a pizza place slash arcade slash animatronic animal disco.
And eight years later, I’m still not allowed back at the Peter Piper Pizza off I-35 in Pflugerville, Texas.
…
Nowadays, though! We’ve got Alias battling a dystopian future across multiple timelines. Fighting the end of the world, brought on by nuclear weapons. Dealing with the threat of all civilizations being destroyed… in 2040.
We’ve got Corey Smith battling President Madison Dyson’s future totalitarian government. A hellscape of greed and avarice where the politicians would sell the poor in the streets to profit the shareholders. Coming to you LIVE… in 2062.
…Do you see what I’m getting at?
The future? Sure feels like the present.
The more things CHANGE.
The more they STAY the SAME.
…
I’ve talked about how much I like Alias.
And NK would never forgive me if I besmirched Captain Corey Smith’s good name.
But do you see what’s happening here?
Alias and Corey are going on inter-dimensional adventures. And they’re traveling to points in the spacetime continuum where the world is on the brink of annihilation…
Unique dimensional apocalypses of sorts…
And they’re running into problems that we have.
RIGHT.
NOW.
…See, that’s the thing about the end of the world.
You really don’t HAVE to travel very far, geographically OR chronologically, to find it.
Sometimes, it turns out the dimension that was going to collapse the interdimensional wave function and destroy the threads of reality itself…
Is the one we already live in.
Grab some popcorn, kids. Get comfy. Let Papa Flynn tell you.
The State of the XWF Dimension.
***
Sitting in the center of the screen behind a lengthy oak panel is a man in a suit: Senator John Thune, the republican senator from the state of South Dakota.
The C-SPAN livestream flickers to life as Senator Thune glances down at his notes.
“We…” He begins… adjusting the microphone slightly closer to his face.
“Begin this first real attempt to understand some recent events that are deeply disturbing to those of us in Congress… Deeply disturbing to the American people… And deeply disturbing to the world. We hope to learn more via direct questioning with some of our witnesses… Some of whom have dabbled in this newly-discovered… multi-verse?”
Senator Thune leans over to his right,
“Am I saying that correctly, mul-TIE-verse?” Senator Lindsey Graham from South Carolina shrugs beside him.
Thune goes right back to reading off his prepared speech.
“We appreciate your willingness to work with our committees, as well as the Department of Homeland Security, to examine the full scope of the problem… The clear and present danger that the multiverse presents… And exactly what can we do to stop it!”
There’s a brief verbal kerfuffle as people whisper to each other…
“Stop the multiverse? That’s… What?”
“It needs to be put down!”
“We’re part of the multi-verse, you buffoon!”
“THEN, WE’LL SECEDE, YOU MORON!”
Some of the senators on the large panel immediately begin to bicker and argue with each other! Until from the witness desk in front of the Investigative Committee, a fingerless glove pulls his own microphone closer to blonde hair dangling in front of his nose. A fearful hush falls over the committee hearing’s members…
“Um… Ch’yeah, dude!” Says Vinnie Lane. The Loverboy. Current CEO of the XWF. And the man subpoenaed by the United States Government to answer certain… questions about the ever-expanding multiverse that the XWF seems to have opened. Wearing a pinstripe pink and black business suit.
On him? It works.
“I gotta ‘fess, I’m still learning this whole multi-dimensional intersection of spacetime dealie… But hey, mi knowledge, su knowledge, amigos and amigas!”
“MURDERER!” Calls out Senator Rand Paul from Kentucky, as he grabs one of the committee members’ microphones beside him!
Lane turns to Paul, very thrown.
“Whoa! Way to harsh the mellow we had goin’ for a sec there, my man Rand!”
“YOUR XWF employees!” Senator Paul says, with a venomously pointed finger.
“BROKE into an arena in my state! And set the whole thing ablaze!”
“First off, Paul-ster… I believe the XWFers you’re referring to… Are also members of a secretive United States government bureau, if my info es correcto.”
…Senator Thune blushes.
“We can neither confirm nor deny whether the United States has government agents employed within the XWF.”
“...Oh okay, can I, like, ALSO neither confirm nor deny that those dudes work for the XWF?”
“No.”
“...Majorly bogus.”
Senator Paul screeches into his microphone like a hawk.
“Your employees set a massive fire in my state! And unleashed 10,000 interdimensional illegal immigrants!”
“Okay, so like… That happened in ONE dimension… BUT those people are free now! AND in another dimension, the FXW *just* finished the show! So… like, yay! Two different happy endings!”
“MY CONSTITUENTS ARE IN THIS DIMENSION! YOU MURDERED THE KFC YUM CENTRE!”
Vinnie scratches his forehead.
“So, like… Counter-point, broham? I think the act you’re referring to, which I had no personal role in… that would be ‘arson’. Murder is when one person kills another. No ish, I gotta google stuff myself all the time, too…”
“YOU MURDERED AN ARENA! A PLACE OF BUSINESS! THE WORST KIND OF MURDER!”
Before Lane can retort about Senator Paul’s priorities as a congressman, Senator Thune bangs his gavel.
“Senator Paul, if you will yield your questions… This is not a hearing about the recent fire at the KFC! Yum Center… Investigations are still pending in that case. This is not the time for baseless conjecture.”
“Well, when is that? Cuz I’ve got more!”
Thune bangs his gavel again. Eventually, the committee grows silent.
“Now, I’d like to BEGIN this interview officially… By thanking Mister Lane for coming in to answer our questions.”
“...Oh. Did I have the option not to, my dude?”
“You did.”
“Suh-weeeeeeeeet!” Lane starts to stand-up and reach for his briefcase...
“Of course, you would be considered in contempt of court, indicted and arrested for obstruction of justice.”
…
“....Dope.” Lane sits back down.
“So, let us begin… We’d like to introduce evidence, Exhibit A through E…”
A number of images flash across a projector screen…
Including Images of older, war-hardened XWF wrestlers, wielding machine guns and battling through a dystopian city… Heroically fending off Cerberus… Fighting zombies… Snapping the necks of the cast of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia…
And finally, an image of Alias… The World-Eater. Fighting the Salmon-Coloured Minotaur. A future… possibly alternate dimension version?... of himself.
“...Can you explain to the committee here what we’re looking at here?”
Lane dry-swallows… Suddenly, there’s a buzz under his desk.
“Oh, uh, sorry, dudes. Forgot to silence my phone…”
Lane reaches into his glam-rock, glitzed-out bag (that had to go through the metal detector like 50 times to get here)... And glances down at his phone…
Lane pauses, unsure of what to make of this… mysterious… tip?
“...Mister Lane? Could you please describe what w-”
“I’ll tell you what we’re looking at!” Senator Ted Cruz from Texas shouts as he leans into his microphone.
“We’re looking at the End-Times! I have rallied against the XWF for years and, in my expert opinion…”
A figure beside Vinnie Lane grabs the CEO’s microphone!
“Cruz, the only thing you’re an expert in is ‘How does a rectum feel on my neck’ cuz you’ve got YOUR HEAD UP YOUR ASS!”
This kicks off another bombardment of bickering… Beside Vinnie Lane… and also called to testify as an expert witness on the XWF and the multiverse… is Former President and current King of the XWF, Bobby Bourbon. The Sultan of Smacktalk. Wearing a navy blue suit, a pale orange tie and the King of the XWF crown atop his head.
Ted Cruz is very hot-under-the-collar staring down at his old rival.
“I have tried to put our past aside for the benefit of this hearing! But, if you’re going to act this way, I’d like it said on the record that you NEEDED to be impeached, Mister Bourbon. For the good of this country!”
“Cruz, you either call me Mister President or YOUR MAJESTY. The only Cruz I let call me Mister Bourbon is your wife in the sack!”
There is a loud audible ooh from the committee. Finally, Thune bangs his gavel again.
“ORDER! I will only tolerate, like, four or five more outbursts from my fellow Republicans!”
Thune adjusts the images on the projector…
“So, Mister Lane, these images supposedly come from… The Future?”
Bourbon releases the mic and Lane pulls it back towards his face.
“Correctamundo. The year 2040.”
“A future where we live in post-nuclear war… After all countries had their nuclear arms remotely set and targeted to inflict maximum damage. And YOUR employee, Alias… seems to rule as the High Lord over what remains. Can you explain if you had any role or awareness in this plot against the American government… And also the world?”
Vinnie’s phone buzzes again. Vinnie glances down at it...
“Uh… Objection, Your Honor?” Vinnie says, like he’s asking a question, which gives his already-palpable 80s accent a specifically valley-girl tone.
“Your question assumes there are facts that aren’t in evidence?”
Rapidly the phone buzzes a few more times. Vinnie checks it again…
“Uh, I mean!” Vinnie scans the texts directly off his phone in a monotone, reading voice…
“Questions ASSUMES facts NOT present in the evidence. Just because there’s a future nuclear holocaust doesn’t mean it was part of a plot against America’s government. If you want to make that argument, you’d need proof submitted in discovery. Which you don’t have, or have failed to present.”
…Vinnie sets the phone down.
“...Is what I meant. Please ex-squeeze me, My Senatorinos.”
There’s little buzz between those sitting on the congressional panel.
“Very well, Mister Lane. I’ll restate the question. Do you understand why some experts might fear, based on this evidence, that the XWF may have any plans to overthrow the American government?”
Vinnie raises an eyebrow.
“Not at all, my dude!” Vinnie adjusts a pair of reading glasses on his face to check his notes on his desk…
“If you reference Exhibit A through E… You’ll find future instances of my employees aiding the fight against the High Lord! XWF CFO Theo Pryce and I, like, totally died, mobilizing against tyranny… In the aforementioned dimension.”
“Like, plus, dude! Check your facts! That dimension sprung up BECAUSE Alias encountered a future Mark Flynn that murdered Corey! Then, in this timeline he beat Flynn! THUS, we diverted that timeline and thus, it created a new one, the one you dudes presented in evidence! SO!...” Vinnie pauses.
…
Vinnie shakes his head, like he’s getting dizzy keeping track of all these interweaving dimensional threads.
“Sorry, headrush, but I re-found my point. If OUR Alias is back in the present dimension, he can easily take actions that may or may not prevent that future! Like, all it takes is one deviation to change tracks on the train, mamacitas! We can slippery-slope-think our way to imagining any terrifying universe, but like, we ALL have the power now, in this moment, to change it! So, like, we should do something to make the world better.”
“So! You admit that this is all progressivism’s fault!” Senator Graham shouts into his microphone.
Lane’s eyebrows raise in confusion.
“Say wha, hombre?”
Senator Graham points over to the senate stenographer!
“You there! Please read back Mister Lane’s testimony, starting from the bit about taking action.”
The stenographer, sitting below the committee, off to the corner, pulls up her typed statement to her face, she reads in a monotone voice…
Quote:If our Alias is back in the present dimension, he can easily take actions that may or may not prevent the future! Like, all it takes is one deviation to change tracks on the train, mamacitas!
“Exactly! Mister Lane is saying we were already on track for a terrible future! Then, that XWF employee Alias changed it… And created a WORSE future! We need to stop changing things! I call for a filibuster of this meeting to have it NEVER END… It’s time to bring gridlock back to the senate!”
Lane scratches his head.
“Um, actually, dude. I think you’ll find I said the opposite. We should KEEP working to make the world better. You just… uh… took my words out of context to serve your preference.”
“Welcome to the Senate, Mister Lane.”
Thune bangs his gavel again!
“Enough! Let us move on to evidence, Exhibits F through J.”
The Alias projections are pulled off the projector…
And are replaced with Corey Smith images… Him combatting a future President Madison Dyson… Who was in the midst of serving her 8th term as President… Who wanted to invade Neverland… Who instilled a new regime of chaos and greed serving Mammon, Lord of Avarice!
“Oh, okay.” Lane says, trying to jump in.
“So, these are from 2062. I bet you’re wondering like, what might have happened between 2040 and 2062. WELL… these are two DIFFERENT dimensions. So there’s not a direct cause-and-eff…”
“Mister Lane, please.” Interrupts Senator Thune.
“We’re not looking for an explanation covering the gap between this 2040 apocalyptic future and this 2062 vision of patriotism.”
“...Ex-squeeze me?”
“I think any red-blooded patriot dreams of a world like the one in Madison Dyson’s America. If what you say is true, and we have direct control to influence the future, how do we guarantee this happens?”
On the side of the room… A chair that’s been blocking the door to the right dislodges an inch… Some group has been banging on the door from the outside…
Vinnie Lane turns his head.
“Hey… Is that chair blocking one of y’all’s doors…. usually there?”
Thune blushes.
“Erm… Yes, it's a Senate tradition.”
“...Hey, it just dawned on me. Aren’t some of you guys missing?”
“No.”
“It just feels like maybe half of you are missing.”
The camera spins. In fact, half of the chairs on the panel AND half of the chairs behind Lane on the senate floor are empty.
The banging on the door blocked by the chair grows louder…
Senator John Cornyn, also from Texas, leans into his microphone.
“Answer the question, Mister Lane. Corey Smith, another XWFer, has said he plans to battle Dyson’s future presidency the future to make sure her tenure as president doesn’t occur. What right does some liberal commune dweller like Corey Smith have to dictate our future! We need to do what we can to prevent XWFers from influencing the future! What gives them the right to dictate our timeline!”
The senators all hear-hear and agree for once…. The banging on the door intensifies… The chair starts to be jostled. Under his desk, out of the sight of the camera… Cornyn rubs a totem, representing Mammon himself. His image has become very popular in certain right-leaning circles.
Vinnie’s brow furrows, very perplexed.
“...Well. So, like, IMO, Corey says he’s going to fight a single possible future outcome. And he’s doing that by creating a commune to help people in need…”
“SOCIALISM!” Howls Senator Minority Leader Mitch McConnell. Also from Kentucky.
The phone buzzes once more. Vinnie gulps and holds it up to his face.
“Okay, so like… butterflies flap their wings? And then… like… SOMALIA... I mean, right?”
Another text comes in. Vinnie desperately holds it up to his face.
“Start. Over... Put. It. In. Your Own Words, oh okay, totes. Totes!”
Vinnie leans back in his chair, thoughtfully, scratching his head.
“Like… Okay. Have any of you guys read Chuckie Dickens? Christmas Carol?”
…
Silence from the Panel.
“Well, I saw the Muppets version, the best one i.m.h.o. And, like, there’s a part where The Ghost of Christmas Past is like… I merely present the past as it was, yo. As things are as they are, don’t blame me! And it’s like, if you think about it, the past of the future is the present, y’know? Like… whoa, right?”
Vinnie Lane puts his hands on the side of his head and expands them outwards like, mind-blown.
“So, THEN, later, when my boy Ebby Scrooge is in the future and it’s all bad and stuff… He’s like ‘Are these the shadows of things that may be or the things that will be?’ and the Ghost of Christmas Future scares him straight and he figures out he’s gotta be a better amigo towards his fellow man. And like Tiny Tim is still alive and Beaker AND Professor Honeydew are there an-”
“Are you building to a point, Mister Lane?”
Lane shakes his head.
“I just mean like… Don’t be out here blaming my company for showing visions of a future you’re afraid of… Or want, I guess?” Lane gags at the idea of President Madison Dyson, but shakes it off.
“Like, 2040 is a long way away. But, it’s also like… real close? These future-y deals are a direct reflection of current times, y’know? Like, I think we all agree, we should be focusing on avoiding BAD futures, yo. But, like, the best way to that… is to make now better, ya know? Like…”
Vinnie looks both ways and then leans closer to the committee like he’s telling a secret.
“I don’t know if y’all heard this, but… There’s like a war right now in Ukraine? Like, could we do something about that, y’know?”
There’s a grumbling among the committee members. Lane looks at Bourbon who nods. The phone’s texts display a thumbs up.
“Mister Lane! Answer us this!” Says Cruz, pointing accusingly again!
“Isn’t it TRUE that all of the bad future things come directly from teaching critical race theory in schools!?!”
Once again, King Bourbon grabs the microphone.
“Cruz! The only critical race theory you should worry about is the THEORY that I’m RACING to put you into CRITICAL CONDITION! CUZ THAT THEORY IS PROVEN.”
There’s an oooooh amongst the Senate gallery. Cruz stammers,
“W-W-we’re going to strip your one-month presidency from all the history books Mister Bourbon!”
“I was president one month longer than you’ll ever be, fuckface!”
Cruz tries to climb over the senate gallery to challenge those fighting words, but kinda trips and ends up riding the barrister like a saddle.
Finally, the chair blocking the door gives out. The Senate Democrats storm in, led by Senator Chuck Schumer from New York!
“That’s enough of that!” Chuck says, flanked by the other Democrat Senators storming into their seats.
“We were illegitimately prevented from taking part in this hearing! Our senate door has been blocked! Which is a fire hazard!”
“...Um.” Vinnie Lane coughs.
“Couldn’t you dudes have just… used the other door?”
The Senate Democrats look over. The door they just burst through… Like ten feet to the side, there’s another door that was completely open.
…
“We prefer the one we came through! It’s Senate tradition!” The Senate Democrats cry huzzah!
Cornyn leans into his microphone!
“AMMON WILL BATHE THIS COUNTRY IN RICHES AND REWARD MOST THOSE WHO FOLLOW HIM!”
This kicks off a slap-fight free-for-all among all the senators. The committee members flee for cover.
Bourbon immediately flips over the table he and Lane are sitting at.
But Cruz is already hiding behind the panel, on his smartphone, buying a ticket to Cancun.
***
The bucket of popcorn on NK’s knee almost flops onto the floor.
He is enthralled like he’s watching a heavyweight fight.
“HAHA! Glorious! Simply glorious!”
Beside NK, Kato sits on the floor, holding a pillow to his chest for comfort. The two Koreans sit a little too close to the TV, as a full-on brawl breaks out on the Senate floor.
“I must say, Mark Flynn, your American Senate is, perhaps, slightly more entertaining than that of True Korea! Ours is mostly hand-shaking and agreeing.”
“I mean, it’s real easy when the whole government has one guy to agree with.” Flynn mutters out of the side of his mouth.
“Very true, Mark Flynn! Thank Goodness our Glorious Leader is always correct, there’s nothing to do EXCEPT agree with him.”
“Actually, sir, I believe Coach Flynn’s comment was sardonic and meant to suggest our politicians are puppets of the Supreme Leader’s will.”
NK waves his hand dismissively.
“Bah, Kato! Bah, I say! Mark Flynn was merely complimenting our perfect government. Correct, Mark Flynn?”
NK looks back.When he does though, NK’s ear-to-ear grin disappears.
“Mark Flyyyyyyyynn! You’re not even watching!”
Flynn is sitting on the couch… texting. His legs are stretched out in front of him. His face does not communicate boredom. He’s laser-focused on the act of texting.
“I’m watching, I’m watching…”
NK sighs and turns back to the TV, where analysts are doing post-hearing discussion.
A blonde newscaster in a red suit sighs and shuffles papers at her desk.
“Well, Day One of #DystopiaGate hearings did not go well for the Senate Committee. If Congress WAS looking to launch an investigation into the XWF, their lines of questioning were disorganized and a little all over the place. It’s unlikely they’ve created a narrative that will generate much support for legislation that might regulate interdimensional enterprises, like the XWF.”
The video feed behind them shows Vinnie being escorted out of Congress and towards a limo with XWF flags on it…
Beside the blonde is a brown-haired newscaster, in a blue suit.
“Absolutely agreed, the Senate flung whatever they could at the wall and tried to make it stick. But Vinnie Lane was like teflon out there! It’s speculated that the Senate specifically called Mister Lane because they thought he’d be easy to pick apart on the stand. But they clearly underestimated the legal know-how of Vinnie Lane, owner of the XWF!”
“Hear hear!” NK says, raising his popcorn bucket into the air!
“An incredible showing by Chairman Lane!”
As Lane disappears into the car, he reaches for his phone…
Flynn’s phone rings in his hand. It rushes to his ear. NK and Kato both turn to look.
“Hello.”
…
“No. Not now. Call me in exactly 11 minutes. Not 10. Not 12.”
Flynn hangs up. He stands up off the couch. He moves to the coat rack where he keeps his bomber jacket.
“I’m going for a walk.”
“Aha! An excellent idea! Kato and I shall accompany you! We shall stretch our legs and discuss the next moves in our investigation for the Beacon!”
NK grins, flopping onto his back, then kips-up off the floor onto his feet. Kato just stands up… like a normal person.
“No. Stay here. Do push-ups.”
NK puffs out his bottom lip, in a fussy, pouty fashion.
“I tire of push-ups, Mark Flynn! …Not in a physical fashion, of course. I never exhaust my energy. But it BOOOOOOOORES ME…”
Flynn looks at NK with full-focus.
…
In a flash, he shifts his eyes twice up to the right corner of the room…
Where a security camera is.
NK almost turns his neck to look…
“NK!”
NK snaps to attention. Flynn’s gaze is blinding, it’s so intense.
“I’m going for a walk.”
Flynn puts on his jacket.
“I’ll be back shortly.”
And with that, Flynn cuts directly for the exit to the room…
…
Kato scratches his chin.
“Shall we do push-ups, then, sir?”
NK exhales loudly and flops onto his back. Briefly, kicking his feet fussily.
“I HATE PUSH-UPS!”
…
The door closes behind Flynn.
And with that, NK’s ears perk.
NK creeps along the floor… Pressing his ear to the door.
He hears Flynn’s footsteps growing quieter and quieter…
Remembering how he and Flynn were tricked by Dread Pirate Omega, he presses his face to the floor, glancing under the door…
True enough, Flynn rapidly paces away…
NK backward-rolls away from the door…
Kato is already in push-up position… until NK scoops him by the scruff of his neck.
“Come, Kato. We have precious little time.”
“Sir, there is always time to do push-ups.”
NK shakes his head.
“I have waited for an opportunity to reveal this secret to you since the Louisville Adventure. But, Mark Flynn’s constant vigilance has forced me to keep my lips sealed.”
“...Sir, on his rest days, Coach Flynn sleeps like 12 hours…”
“Vigilant! LIKE A HAWK!”
“Commander, we took a two-week vacation to Montauk, you and I, in January. Mark Flynn opted not to join us.”
“THAT’S JUST WHAT HE WANTED US TO THINK, KATO!”
…Kato sighs.
“Fine. What did you wait until the most opportune moment to show me…?”
“Do you recall the computer terminal we decoded in Louisville? The one with all the secrets of the mysterious XWF minority shareholder that Mark Flynn believes is Robert Miles?”
Kato nods.
“Yes, of course, Commander! You told me that you decoded the computer’s password, opening the vault.”
“Precisely so, dear Kato!”
“And then, according to Mark Flynn, you destroyed the computer by smashing it over your interdimensional counterpart.”
…
“...You weren’t there, Kato!”
“Did you have no choice but to destroy the computer?”
“...Well, no, I had several offensive options. I...”
NK finally shakes his head, reaching into his right coat pocket.
“Disregard all of that, Kato! My point is… Yes, the computer was destroyed.”
“Thus, its internal files were lost and its XWF-related secrets were…”
NK’s right hand returns out of his coat pocket…
Revealing…
A hard drive.
…
Kato’s eyes widen.
“Their secrets…”
NK smiles nefariously.
“Are ours, my dear Kato.”
***
Flynn and NK stand at the front of the War Room.
Shoulder-to-shoulder.
“Y’know. When we laid out a challenge to all the mediocre tag-teams in this company to get their shit together and give us a challenge… I gotta admit. I wasn’t expecting Bastards Part 3.”
“Indeed, Mark Flynn. How many times can Bobby Bourbon come up short and change the possessive pronoun before the Bastards run out of options?”
Flynn scratches his head… Then counts on his fingers.
“Four times? Cuz after this, he’ll probably team up with Jim Jimson. They can call themselves ‘Xem No Good Bastards’”
“Oooooh, non-gender specific pronouns. Perhaps their rainbow-themed-tandem-move will be Pride-themed.”
“My God, how far the Bastards have fallen. Remember like twelve months ago, when everyone thought the Bastards were an unbeatable tag-team? A once-in-a-lifetime phenomenon that might never be replicated.”
“Indeed. Now, These/Those/Them/Xem/’deez/Dem No Good Bastards… In whatever combination you’d like to put them… Haven’t won a tag-team match against an XWF team in…” NK reaches into his front pocket, retrieving his notebook. He flips a few pages…
…
Then, a few more…
…
Then, even more pages…
…
Finally, his index finger flicks onto a page!
“Aha! Here it is! Relentless Night One!” NK shuts the notebook.
“In early 2021, the Bastards found a way to conquer Dock and Captain Corey Smith, a truly impressive feat! …In 2022? They barely squeaked past a team of geriatrics in S.E.X., a team that wouldn’t be allowed to COUGH onto an XWF contract.”
Flynn shakes his head in disbelief.
“The Bastards’ last XWF tag-team win was in FUCKING SEPTEMBER! SIX MONTHS AGO! Then, Bobby and TK lost to us. Then, Charlie and TK drew against RL and Corey. THEN, Bobby and Barney lost to us. The Bastards may be doing great as SINGLES competitors. But as tag-teams go? They’re at the bottom of the division.”
“It is rather absurd for us to face them now. In the last six months, we’ve beaten teams at their peaks. Double Trouble had been undefeated. Can-Am Express had been undefeated. The Bastards had been undefeated for eight months. APEX had just taken the company by storm and won the Uni Title AND the tag titles in one night. And we beat each of them all the same.”
“And now, here come the 2022 Bastards. Winless as a group. And completely inexperienced as a unit. Bobby and Charlie have never even TEAMED together before!”
“Which, of course, is an opportune segue to address our opponents, individually.”
Flynn and NK each step forward with their fists.
“If I win, we’ll start with Bobby.”
“And WHEN I win, Charlie Nickles shall be our opening target.”
They count-off to 3 and shoot!
NK throws paper. Flynn throws scissors. NK stomps his foot, furious at his loss. Flynn laughs and steps in towards the camera.
“Credit where credit is due. Bobby is King of the XWF… In a tournament that didn’t include Alias, Dock, Thad, Corey, Vaughnie, you, me, Charlie… It didn’t even have fuckin’ MARF.”
NK steps up beside his partner.
“Indeed. A tournament with ZERO champions. And even more, ZERO number one contenders.”
Flynn and NK clap, out of unison and with maximum slow sarcasm.
“Congrats, I guess, On your participation trophy.”
“Of all the participants, you participated the hardest, Bobby Bourbon!”
“Of course, that accomplishment does nothing to deal with the fact that it’s been SIX years and you still haven’t beaten NK once!”
NK puffs out his chest confidently, flexing his lean biceps.
“I have four recorded victories over a former president of the United States!”
“Bourbsy, we don’t want to diminish your accomplishment of beating…” Flynn reaches into NK’s pocket for a sheet of paper with his notes on it… NK slaps at Flynn’s hand, but Flynn eventually retrieves the sheet.
“Calvary… Who’s on a LENGTHY losing streak.”
NK looks over his partner’s shoulder.
“Comrade Jenny Myst, who Mark Flynn and I had to carry over Double Trouble.”
“And ‘CHOKE ARTIST’ Raion Kido. The kid who wins incredible matches… Until you put a belt or a trophy on the line. Then he seizes up like a third grader with a peanut allergy and starts…”
Flynn drops the paper… And suddenly reaches for his throat, pounding at his chest with his fist! NK immediately wraps his arms around Flynn’s stomach and squeezes!
Flynn spits! And sighs as he pretends air rushes back into his lungs.
“Choking.”
“Raion Kido. The Cho-KING of the XWF.”
Flynn and NK bump fists and grin insidiously.
“Honestly, we’re glad you’re back, Bob. Congrats on the win.”
“We are profoundly thankful for your return. Praise the Glorious Leader for deeming it so!”
“But, while we’re being honest… Bourbs has REAL low consistency.”
“Sure, he found a way to beat Corey Smith, a feat very few can claim.”
“Then, two weeks later he lost to VITA VALENTEEN.”
“THEN, he dropped a loss to Betsy Granger.”
“Then, he lost to Jim Caedus and Alias, back-to-back.”
“I mean, I know we’ve covered this before, BUT BOURBON HAS A LOSS ON HIS RECORD TO TOMMY WISH AND JOHN BLA-”
NK intercedes, covering Flynn’s mouth.
“Mark Flynn, if we list every match Bourbon has disappointed in, we’ll be here quite a while.”
Flynn brushes off NK’s hand with a flick of his wrist.
“…Of course, it goes without saying we should take Charlie Nickles and Bobby Bourbon seriously.”
Flynn scoffs.
“Oh, sure. You know we’re facing a formidable team when they’re in the sign-up thread publicly planning their team name AND finishing move where everyone can see it.”
Pictured: Something that probably should have been discussed privately
“I mean, you said it yourself, Bobby Bourbon. Mark Flynn and I are… what some would call… sneaky.”
“I prefer strategic.”
“I prefer artfully devious.”
Flynn shakes his head.
“Regardless, let’s run through the last two matches we had with The Bastards.”
“Match The First: We out-think Bobby and TK. We take advantage of their slothful, showy offense and we take the win… In a possibly controversial manner.”
“Match Two: You replace TK with Barney Green. Again, we predict your offense will be even slower now that you’ve gone a combined weight of a Dunkin’ Donuts franchise between the two of you.”
“So, we predict your plan. We outpace you. We isolate you. And we beat you.”
“I mean, it isn’t DIFFICULT to predict what the Bastards will do. You dummies spent the lead-up to WarGames attacking your opponents after every single match. You’re not exactly masters of subtlety.”
“BUT NOW! Before the third match… You’re just gonna… send us your moves?”
“If you’re this eager to lose, Bobby Bourbon, would you like to send us your practice footage?”
“Maybe a diagram of all your tag-team hand signals?”
“Perhaps a copy of your and Charlie Nickles’ medical histories, so that we might exploit your previous injuries?”
“I mean, FUCK, Bob-o! Are you that eager to get back out of the ring and to the pre-show buffet that you want us to beat you EVEN QUICKER?”
NK smirks.
“If that’s the case, we’d be happy to oblige.”
Flynn and NK high-five.
…
“Although…”
“What is it, Mark Flynn?”
“We might be underestimating Charlie Nickles.”
The two partners eye each other, intently.
…
…..
…….
Flynn and NK both burst out laughing.
“Haha, I had you for a sec!”
“You did NOT, Mark Flynn! I was appropriately incredulous!”
Flynn dabs at the corner of his eye, wiping away a tear. NK sighs nostalgically, before looking into the camera.
“Let us face facts. Charlie Nickles has become the longest-reigning TV Champ in recent memory… Because he’s been picking inferior opponents.”
“Terry Borden, Ruby, Elijah Martin… Hey, way to run through the entire Anarchy roster, Charlie! Way to prove you’ve got what it takes to dominate the Rec-League talent.”
“Followed by Raion Kido.”
“Who CHOKED. And Cent…”
NK covers his heart, awash in disappointment.
“Oh, Comrade Centurion! We were so near all titles being held again by Team #FUCKTHAD…”
Flynn shrugs.
“If it makes you feel any better, Charlie didn’t even make Cent quit. He held Ruby hostage and COMPELLED Cent to give up.”
NK sighs, clapping.
“Masterful villainy, Mister Nickles. Good form.”
Flynn spits on the ground.
“Fuck Charlie. He likes to pretend he’s a master of psychological warfare with his constant challenges and rumor-spewing. The idiot shits in his own hand, and when his opponent asks ‘what’s that disgusting smell’, he acts like he’s Sun fucking Tzu.”
NK lifts his hands defensively.
“Tread cautiously, Mark Flynn. After all, according to Charlie Nickles, he was the main character of our award-winning fighting simulation video game! He defeated Jim Caedus!”
Flynn exhales, then beckons his partner closer. NK steps up cautiously.
In a flash, Flynn grabs NK’s ear and leans into it.
“NEWS FLASH!”
NK’s whole body shakes! He covers his ears uncomfortably, back-pedaling away from Flynn.
“The point of that JOKE simulation was to show how APEX was so weak, they were being uprooted by playground insults. Jim Caedus was out here having panic attacks and sweating bullets because Charlie wouldn’t stop saying ‘I know you are, but what am I?’ and telling everybody Caedus had cooties.”
NK shakes his head rapidly, re-centering himself. He steps back forward.
“It is true. Charlie Nickles had found his way inside Jim Caedus’ head with… quite a bit of effort, but virtually no tact.”
“And that’s what’s saddest to me, NK.”
NK tilts his head to the side.
“What is sad about this story, Mark Flynn?”
“Charlie Nickles… His biggest REAL claim to fame in this business is being a RUNNER-UP. At Relentless two years ago, he challenged for the Uni Title. And LOST.”
“He likes playing pretend that the TV Title matters, but if that were the case, he wouldn’t be moaning and begging for a shot at the Uni. A belt he will NEVER win.”
“Charlie Nickles likes to pretend he’s filet-mignon when he’s just cow-ass.”
“Jim running around so mad, yelling at ghosts? That was Charlie’s ONE shot. His SINGLE opportunity to become Uni champ.”
“And Theo… Theo knew better than to give Charlie that chance.”
“So, Theo gave the shot to Vaughnie. And Charlie kept whining, begging to cash-in on his #1 contender status.”
“Then, Vaughnie lost to Alias. A man who beat Charlie, virtually effortlessly.”
“And Charlie is still out here, trying to get people better than him to say ‘under where?’ so he can say ‘Ha, I made you say underwear!’”
“Still begging for a Uni Title shot against Alias. Against a man that already flattened him.”
“And the sad thing is Alias already learnt Charlie’s secret weakness.
Flynn grins insidiously.
“Charlie is reeeeeeeal confident when he’s demanding YOU put YOUR belt on the line. Then, when you ask him to step-up and match the bet? He gets… a little evasive.”
Flynn giggles.
“Shit, Char-Char. Since you’re so comfortable asking champs to put their belts on the line. How about you put what you treasure on the line in this match?”
NK gasps.
“Flynn, are you talking about Charlie Nickles’ precious Goldie?”
Flynn shakes his head.
“I’m talking about his #1 contendership for the Uni belt. The status he’s been clinging onto for months now.”
“Charlie’s lottery ticket. That we all know, the second HE tries to scratch it? It’ll be a loser.
“...But. If WE had it.”
Flynn and Nk grin and lean into the camera.
“We put our belts on the line the moment you asked, Charlie Nickles.”
“How about you put up or shut up?”
“We have a… feeling. That such a gamble might give you pause.”
“The slightest hesitation… A chill running up your spine.”
“You can pretend with your little Bastard playmates that your group is still worthy of XWF Tag-Team of the Year.”
“But, at the end of the day. You know there’s only one TRUE XWF Tag-Team worth talking about…”
The Tag-Champs raise their belts above their heads.
“And that is the team of Mark Flynn.”
“And the North Korean War Criminal.”