Outside TK’s run-down trailer in Lima, Ohio, four tractor trailers pull in and line up in a row on the street.  One man hops out of the passenger side of the first truck carrying a clipboard and walks up to the front door that looks out of place for the building.  It was fancy and brand-spanking new while the trailer was rundown and went without a door for a long time.  Before he has a chance to knock, the door opens and there stands Ol' Thunder Knuckles. TK leans back and yells to the back of the trailer.

Jimmy, what the fuck is this?

A scuffle can be heard before Jimmy's voice.

Is it here?

TK looks back at the guy with the clipboard.

Sup?

One Thermodynamic Eradication Assistance Mech.  There are fifty-two crates to unload. Do you just want them….  Um…?

The guy looks around and notices there's no front lawn and only room to unload on the street.

I guess, on the street, I take it?

No shit, we got a fucking rocket appliance surgeon in the house.

Okay, I just need your autograph right there.

TK gives the man a cold stare and then looks down at the clipboard.

I ain’t signing that shit. My autograph cost money, mother fucker.

Yeah, I'm not paying you to drop off this equipment. Sorry, bud.

Though TK looks annoyed, he leans and looks toward the back of the trailer again.

JIMMY! Come sign for this fucking shit!

Jimmy scurries out with an extra kick to his step.  Like a kid on Christmas morning.  He gladly signs his name and follows the man with the clipboard outside who signals to the rest of the trucks to unload.

This is going to be so great, Thunder Knuckles. Now all we have to do is put this together when your team gets here!

You know if you would have picked Bobby I wouldn’t have to get ahold of anyone to put this together. Bobby would have already had it done and we’d have wrecked fucking shop real quick and in a hurry.

Yeah, and you have to learn that just because you're the best tag team in the world doesn’t mean you can’t win without Bobby Bourbon. Plus, it’s not like you don’t have an all-time great on your team thanks to me.

The twinkle in his eye shows that Jimmy is very pleased with himself.

Not to mention I sent out the information to your team already, except Doc.

Yeah, yeah, yeah you know Bobby's going to make you do laps when he sees you, right? Wait... you said you didn't get ahold of King BOB already. How does anyone even get ahold of him?

Umm…  I dunno.  We could try saying his name five times into a mirror?  Or maybe, um….

Jimmy leans in to make sure none of the men unloading the crates can hear him regardless of them being well out of hearing distance.  He whispers.

Maybe a sacrifice??

TK looks directly at the cameraman.

It could work.

Jimmy quickly interjects before TK kills yet another cameraman.

No. No… Maybe, we start with a chicken or something? Something easy.

Quit screwing around, Jimmy!  Doesn't he have a goddamn phone?  An email address?  Twitter? I can't fucks with Twitter anymore, too many crying ass bitches. Never-the-goddamn-less do something!

Well, I think he has a Twitter account, but–

From behind Jimmy, inside the trailer, there's a sound of glasses clinking together and a deep, bellowing shout.

Hello, my friends!

Jimmy nearly jumps out of his pants and spins around to see a few feet away, Doc D'Ville burning a cigar and pouring whiskey into three small glasses.

I hope you don't mind, I let myself in.  Would you boys care for a nip?  To break the ice?  Exchange contacts?  Get to know each other a little better?  Discuss our plan for War Games domination. 

The doctor's voice got deeper and raspier as he spoke.  He ominously winks at Jimmy as he slides two glasses toward them.

Well, call me a three-hundred-pound polar bear, King BOB, I’ll have a drink. Fuck yeah.

TK takes his glass and pounds it back then looks over at Jimmy.

Don’t just fucking look at it, Jimmy.

TK takes his glass and points to Jimmy's glass with it.

Don’t be fucking disrespectful and shit. Sorry, about that King BOB. He’s kind of a fucking ass-hat sometimes.

Jimmy slowly grabs his glass, hesitant of what Doc might have done to it, and chokes it down.  Some of it comes back up and sprays out and Jimmy shouts!

What is that?!  Gasoline?!

A bit of a lightweight, too, apparently?

Yeah, he’s kind of a bitch.  Just drink it, bitch!  Fuck.

Jimmy manages to throw the rest back without losing it again.  He sets the glass down and to his surprise, watches it fill back up again without a bottle doing so.  He looks up and watches Doc chuckle and from a distance manages to splash more whiskey into each of their glasses.  Jimmy's eyes grow three sizes and the three of them share another round.  Jimmy, already a little taken by the first drink, leans into the wall and slurs to Doc.

So, how the heck did you get in here, Doc?!

What do you mean?

Well, you just appeared behind us like….  ……  …….  POOF!

Poof?

A purple cloud bursts beside them and Cadryn Tiberius appears in his underwear eating a bowl of Captain Krunch.  He notices Doc and lights up.

HEY DAWK!

Doc snaps his fingers and poofs Cadryn away as quickly as he appeared.

That guy is so fucking weird! He just shows up and goes the fuck away!

How'd you do that?!

Do what, sir?

Jesus Christ, that guy shows up all the time, Jimmy,  and as for King BOB, there IS a back door, dumb ass.

Doc looks at Jimmy, smiles, and shrugs.

After about an hour, all of the crates are nearly unloaded, scattered throughout the street in front of other trailers.  Jimmy is passed out drunk on the couch and TK and Doc remain in the kitchen puffing away at cigars as we pick up mid-conversation.

I honestly can't blame Ned Kaye OR Dolly Waters for choosing the way they did.  Ned Kaye seems like the type of fellow to go with the hot ticket and Mark Flynn has been, without a doubt, just that.  Ned has never done anything too awful great around here himself, so for him to grasp tightly onto the trunks of one of the more recent Universal Champions wasn't some plot twist.  It's exactly what someone like Ned Kaye would HAVE to do in a matter such as this.

Ned’s a ham sandwich, reliable, but basic. Straight up, Mark Flynn over King BOB? Stupid as fuck. Dolly picking Corey? Sure, I could see why she’d do that. Someone else with misplaced anger issues, identity crisis... crisi, whatever, they got synced up periods is what I'm saying.

Her heart's been twisted up ever since she started getting involved with Corey and Dukey after Doctinuum was put to rest….  That was you, am I right?

TK shrugs nonchalantly.

And Bobby, to be fair, I’ll never ever forget the look on Corey’s face. I’m not sure if the camera even caught it but the look of shock.

TK makes a chef’s kiss by kissing the tips of his thumb, pointer, and middle fingers, blowing them away.

He won’t be as shocked this time, that’s for fucking sure.

Nodding in agreement, Doc begins to speak.

Angelica Vaughn picked the current Universal Champion, Raion Kido, in the second round.  Says a lot for the boy, doesn't it, to hold the greatest title in the universe and be passed up seven times in the draft?  That tells me the fellow is either not worth a damn or is horrible to work with.  I don't really know much about him, myself, only what I can see with my one eye and whatever everyone else expresses.  He has to be worth something to hold the Universal Championship, without a doubt, but there's also a thing known as being at the right place at the right time.  So, until I see and have a go at him, I'll likely assume he's an Average Joe that simply caught some wind behind him.

TK rolls his eyes because he is sick and tired of hearing about Raion Kido.

Fuck Kiddo, this little bitty kitty cat ain’t no goddamn team player. Get the fuck out of here. Look he won the tag titles with Cashe and then let my man down. Cashe was there footing the bill for someone who only cared about himself. Whatever helps and gives him that little push forward that he needs. That’s the fucking facts whether he likes it, or not, and the fans know. This competition is going to show that in spades. Then again he might be on the right team cause god knows Vita struggles to keep a team member longer than fifteen seconds. Count’em out, Jesslynn Hart, Dolly, Noah Jackson, not to mention her best friend Miss Fury - aka Jessica - aka Boss Bitch. You can almost set a watch on this team's implosion.

Doc interjects as TK starts to drink from his glass.

Well, the team walking away from that one isn't the team with Miss Valenteen, Kido, or Angelica…  The team advancing from that is the one with your best pal, Bobby Bourbon!  It just makes sense that way on paper, am I right?  In comparison, there's obviously one team far more superior than the other one.  Sarah Lacklan and Angelica Vaughn are former XWF Tag Team Champions, but it was always obvious Sarah was more valuable.  Out of that entire reality-television garbage group of she-devils, I believe Miss Lacklan packs the biggest punch, and championships aside, that doesn't say a much.

I wonder if Sarah Lacklan ever walked up to a mirror and thought while staring into her rat-like eyes. Wow, I really am a fucking disappointment. Think about this for a second, will ya, she came in hot, not unlike Kiddo, conquered Anarchy, conquered Leap of Faith, Conquered Shawn Warstein who at the time was on a good run beating Centurion, and… and… someone else I'm sure. Not the point, my point is since coming back she’s been driving the fail bus. Oh, and now she’s going to take down two of my favorite goddamn people in the whole industry, Bobby Bourbon and Noah Jackson. It’s a goddamn shame too because I know I’m going to the finals and probably going to have to face them. Sucks, but that’s the job. I’ll fight them like anyone else. I’ll mostly just have to distract Bobby by throwing some hot dogs outside the ring. Are you taking notes, Doc? Bring hot dogs, lots of them. Noah will be a little harder, the kid can scrap but his motivation has always been his weakness. So, not too worried there. He’ll hit the high notes, cunt this, cunt that, and be ruthless on the mic while lacking substance. I mean, to be fair if all else fails I’ll bring some extra hot dogs and distract him too.

TK shakes off his A.D.D. as Doc fills TK’s glass again.

I know what you’re thinking, but TK, you didn't finish talking shit about Sarah being a disappointment. Sorry, I got sidetracked, I got talking about talent and how to overcome it, just like that, I overlooked the fact she’s back around. Happens, my bad. The reason why Sarah is a disappointment isn’t because she's an uppity cunt, so cut it out, Ned. No, she’s a disappointment because her biggest accomplishment as Uni Champ was beating Charlie Nickles. She’s a disappointment because her biggest accomplishment recently has been winning tag gold and losing it to an eighth overall War Games pick. She should have mopped the goddamn floor with Kiddo, at least that is what the history books would tell us. No, she’s back half hatred and waiting to disappear from Anarchy again like she did when she was General Manager. Trust the fact that I can smell someone half-hearted from a mile away. I hang out with Charlie and Bobby, for fucks sake.

Doc spits up some of his whiskey, choking with laughter.

Very true, my friend!  And I will agree that Sarah has some knack for kicking around the Nickleman!  A good quality, indeed.  She drafted better than Angelica did, so we'll likely see her in the final match.  Will Noah Jackson matter when it actually matters?  Who knows.  Will Bobby be able to live up to anything he's been saying and get past Raion Kido?  Who knows.  Let me ask you, who would you say drafted the absolute worst, Mister Knuckles?

Sid Grey definitely got the shit end of the stick. This bitch drafts probably the worst team I've ever seen assembled in War Games. Jay “I have no goddamn clue what he's about anymore” Omega, falls right out of Robert Main promo school 101 sounding like Robo Gravy took a shit on Star Wars. Centurion, who if I would have drafted would have won but instead he’s going to do what he always does. The job. Vagabond’s edge-lord having ass, if he feels like showing up, would be a problem. Except he has to contend with an obviously directionless team. Like how’s Grey going to actually trust Cent? Aren’t they fighting each other?

Brushing away anything Cent has to do with just about anything, TK continues.

Doesn’t matter, “These are the days of our lives”, they’re getting wrecked by Crash’s team.

TK looks very confident in his assumption.

Crash is my boy, my favorite really. Ask him! He’ll tell ya, best pick-up BOB had made in OCW. Absolutely, one hundred percent, the star of that team. He’ll be more entertaining than Ned and not drop the ball like King, who just lost the TV title to Dio. Now call me a rainbow in the goddamn dark here if I’m wrong, but Dio has some spirit to him, doesn’t he? Think about how many times he failed,  just to keep coming back for more punishment until ultimately winning his first XWF gold! He’s a regular ‘Ol Thunder Knuckles. Well, until he runs into the real deal and ends up bounced from War Games like Dolly trying to get into a nightclub, because she looks twelve years old. Plus, I gotta put a beat down on anyone who walks down to the ring with a pinecone not named Jim Jimson. He doesn’t even do anything fucking cool with his pinecone. Just puts it on a stick and shows off that doofy fucking shield of his, how fucking lame is that? First time I saw that I was like: Damn, bro, calm down, it ain’t even that serious. He’s in the right group for sure. Corey will twitch around being super cereal, while Dolly reads parrot cards being all spooky doing voodoo hoodoo bullshit. Speaking spooky time isn't Unknown Soldier on that team? Weren't you guys tag champs many moons ago?

Indeed he is and he was, Mr. Knuckles

Who do you think get possessed by Dolly's Kojo?

Doc ignores the obvious wording mistake.

Corey or Soldier? I'd put a large sum of money on Corey, history, and all. Soldier normally does the possessing, right? Shit, it could be Dolly herself, she's about a shell of what she used to be. Fuck it, who cares? We're going to whip their asses so bad Soldier will disappear, Corey will make excuses, and Dolly will take a Leave Of Absence. As for Dio, he'll still get to walk out the TV Champion but with a bruised ego.

Suddenly four loud thuds can be heard coming from the door. TK’s head whips toward the door and he yells.

Who the fuck is it?

TK begins walking toward the door as four more loud thuds occur.

You deaf? Who the fuck is it?

Through the door, you hear a faint.

Whad’ ya say?

TK grumbles and mumbles.

Knocking on my goddamn door like the mother fucking police and shit.

Swinging open the door reveals Mad Dog Mark Wright.

Hey, man, Sunny said you drafted me for War Games, and uh, I was told to come here.

Both men look uncomfortable, for TK, he’s found someone more hillbilly than himself, for Mark, it’s his fear of failure.

Jimmy drafted you, but yeah, you’re with me. Doc’s already here, we’re just bullshitting. Want a beer?

Hell yeah, Man.

PBR in the fridge, help yourself.

Mad Dog knows his way around a trailer and walks into the kitchen area and grabs himself three beers with one hand and his junk with his other.

Dag on, boy, care if I head on back to the p*sser?

TK smirks knowing this could be a really good group if Jimmy picked both Doc and Mad Dog.

Have at it, bro.

TK looks over to Doc.

War Games itself is designed for everyone to go at each other's throats, only the strongest survive or the smartest. Some might say I’m not very bright, but look, I have a plan. We work together and build this T.E.A.M. robot thing. That way we can crush everyone's goddamn Kojo’s.

Kaiju.

Finally, TK sucks it up by admitting he was wrong TK nods.

Yeah, Kiju.

That's when someone started slapping the door. Doc nods his head and TK walks back over to the door.  TK swings open the door notices the mud on his door and looks aggravated. Once he saw Jenny standing there his expression changed. Now he looks more aggravated.

Sorry about your door.

He huffed, looked over at Jimmy, and mumbled.

You son of bitch.

TK steps aside, thinks of happier times, and closes the door with the camera outside; closing not just the door but this recorded promo.