Robbie Bourbon was recently teaching a rape prevention self-defense class alongside Jesus Christ. That is, until he broke some dude's neck with a clobbering right meat hook clothesline. Peter Gilmour is a sad pathetic wee smidgen of a man who recently propositioned himself at a 12-year-old girl and another competitor in their match come Wednesday Night Warfare, Dolly Waters. He also scribbled something on Kitt Kennedy, the fourth player in this weeks brutal game's piece of paper, who knows if he's actually anything, though, or just some turnbuckle dingleberry whiner like Ghost Tank.

MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE

We open to hear the sounds of running water splattering against linoleum. We're inside a bathroom, and the steam from a running shower billows but doesn't fog the cameras of the crack XWF production team. Through the shower curtain we can see the silhouette of a large man, humming some tune as he scrubs himself. Robbie Motherfucking Bourbon, coming clean once again. The shower curtain is plain, beige, but the shower set up is amazing. The shower head itself seems to have more complexities to it than the average Swiss Army knife, with over eighteen different settings, a cup holder, a water pick for your teeth, a shampoo dispensing line, a conditioner dispensing line, and all manner of accouterments that look as though this thing was very expensive from a Brookstone or Sharper Image catalogue, if not custom made.

"There we go, get the taint nice and lathered," Robbie thought to himself as he took the bar of soap and set to task of washing under his balls. "I wash out all the dingleberries and nut sweat, make the grundle good and clean." Robbie grabs his AXE Detailer loofah and starts scrubbing his nuts good and hard with it. "There we go. Nice clean nutsack. Fresh, clean, and healthy ballbag. Gotta be ready, at all times, in case some stranger decides to give me a blowjob, like I'm some Skinemax antihero on Red Shoe Diaries. Not like it'll happen in the ring, no sirree. Peter Gilmour can't touch these nuts. Kitt Kennedy probably doesn't understand why he can't touch these nuts, he will one day I'm pretty sure. My shaven, scrubbed, scoured coin purse full of half my genome is probably too much for him to handle right now. Let him secure his own genetics first. Dolly will definitely not be even seeing by ball bag any time soon. Not only is she way underaged, but seriously, she's not going to develop into any kind of really hot woman. The weird whistling noise that comes from her nose when she has her mouth closed, the funky giant ankle on one leg, poor genetics there. I mean, I shouldn't judge, but the way she kind of shambles around like that freaky dude with the giant eyeball from 300 isn't going to get her asked to prom any time soon. Whoop!" Robbie's eyes go wide as he loofa slips up into his ass crack and his soapy finger glides into his anus. "That's the danger zone! Yikes, how does anybody like anal when even the tip of my pinky feels like a turd trying to resorb itself into the depths, that last dangler, not wanting to drop into the toilet?"

With that, we hear the door of the bathroom open, and in walks Joe Biden in a frenzied hurry. He flips the lid of the commode up and drops his pants, taking a seat immediately.

Woah, woah, what the fuck are you doing?

Shhh, I'm poop shy!

What? Seriously, you're going to come in here when I'm taking a shower and just take a shit? I'd be maybe alright with that, no, I wouldn't be alright with that even if you were my girlfriend, Joe, seriously?

Look, I have to go.

Then go in one of the several dozen other bathrooms here at the dojo!

No, they have too many stalls, I can hear the other people, I'm poop shy.

Jesus H. Christ! Joe...

Please be quiet, I'm poop shy!

No! Get out of here, Joe, this isn't really working for me right now. I'm sitting here trying to wash myself, deal with the fact I'm King of the Jobbers in my soliloquy using that weird brain transmission tech that the XWF always seems to employ to turn anybody into their own narrator, and you're going to come in and chuck a deuce right in the middle of all that?

Robbie, I really need to poop.

Joe Biden pulls his phone out and starts to play Candy Crush Saga with the volume all the way up like some people insist on doing with any kind of phone app game.

Fuck, is that Candy Crush?

A super loud "DEVINE" is heard as Joe's face crumples into showing maximum effort to squeeze out whatever is knock, knock, knocking at his back door, attempting to empty his colon in short order. Robbie takes the shower head off it's holster and starts to spray hot shower water down all over Joe Biden.

Hey, hey! My phone!

Get! Get! Skedaddle!

Joe Biden hisses at Robbie as he stands, showing partial full frontal but only for a second, if you really want to look at it you'll have to go frame by frame on a digital playback, pulls his pants back up, and leaves the bathroom. As Robbie resets the shower head back into the position it was at before, he resumes humming.

"Seriously, why do I put up with some of this stuff sometimes? I mean, yeah, it's good and all to be the King of the Jobbers, to go out and know that getting my head kicked in by everybody from Luca "Designer Drugs" Arzegotti to, well, pretty much just Luca "Party Drugs" Arzegotti does some good for the spirit of people around here, they need to know that anybody can get their ass kicked by designer drugs or party drugs and keep walking after the ordeal. Getting annihilated by Doc D'Ville, like that time he pinned Scully and lost after we just went toe to toe and head to head in some intense fucking action, shows everybody that even your friends who act like they aren't anymore are still worthwhile." Robbie hits a button and a small jet of shampoo lands in his palm. Another button press and a jet of conditioner shoots out, and Robbie begins a nice lather on the top of his mask, which he showers in from what we can see. "I mean, what if I wasn't King of the Jobbers, losing in the most hackneyed ways imaginable that still manage to make me look strong and keep some hope up there for the plebian masses who would otherwise fold into despair?"

The lights flicker in the bathroom.

VERY FUNNY JOE! JUST BECAUSE YOU CAN'T POOP IN HERE DOESN'T MEAN YOU CAN PLAY WITH THE DIMMER SWITCH!

There's absolutely no reply from Vice King of the Jobbers Joe Biden since he's not in the room. Robbie rinses the scalp of his mask as it has a glorious sheen from whatever hair care products he applied to it in the shower, turns off the water, and grabs a towel. He begins to dry himself off behind the curtain, and wraps the towel around his waist before opening, keeping the secrets of his golden beard and it's naturality a secret for the time being. He steps out of the shower and walks over to the mirror, which is very fogged up. He wipes it off, and is completely shocked to see the visage of the Unknown Soldier gawking back at him.

Fuck! Is there something wrong with the shampoo gun?

Nope.

Is this an acid flashback?

Nope.

What the fuck?

SATAN! vision, you silly bastard.

Oh, wait, what?

Yeah, when I get bored I sometimes like to go into other people's bathroom mirrors and check out what they keep in their medicine cabinet, see if they're hiding any cool drugs for me to take.

Well, I don't...

Someone's been hiding a lot of roaches in here.

Someone's a chatty Cathy as far as I'm concerned.

Why do you have three open tubes of toothpaste? That makes no sense whatsoever.

I travel a lot, sometimes they get lost.

These are super sized tubes, not travel sized!

I know!

Robbie grabs a plunger that is sitting next to the toilet.

Ooh, clog up the shitter a lot?

Well, maybe I do and maybe it's for Joe Biden. Come on, man, I have my own Dunkin Donuts here and drink plenty of coffee daily, sometimes there's an...

You clog up the shitter a lot.

Not today!

Robbie slaps the plunger onto the mirror, and starts to work with it as Unknown Soldier struggles against it to stay inside the mirror.

Get out!

No!

I said get out of my mirror!

You're going to break it, that's seven years bad luck!

I'm not superstitious!

Robbie gives a mighty yank on the plunger handle, and Unknown Soldier comes tumbling out of the mirror on top of him as they both fall into a heap. Unknown Soldier looks at Robbie.

Your towel came off.

I, uh, I know. Let's...

Robbie and Soldier get to their feet and awkwardly look away from each other as Robbie grabs a pair of boxer briefs sitting on a shelf and puts them on. Soldier turns around.

So, now that you've pulled me here, I thought I'd talk to you about what you were going on about in the shower.

What? I was thinking all that stuff, the crack XWF production team hasn't had a chance to get it ready for video.

Well, I have SATAN! vision, so I already heard it. You're really curious what it would be like if you were never an XWF superstar?

Well, I dunno, I guess I considered my own existence, you mean you don't?

Fuck no, you're the only one. Everybody else is ignorantly cocksure of themselves, you're among a handful of people who are actually considerate and practice critical thinking.

Oh, well..

Well, let's have a look. Robbie, you're fortunate, you're about to see what life would be like if you were never an XWF Superstar.

Wait, I dunno, is this like that movie It's A Wonderful Life?

Nah, more like Mr. Destiny.

Ooh, Jim Belushi, only famous because his brother was beloved and died. I dunno, I have some errands to run, a little training to get in for my match...

How are you supposed to train for your match?

Well, I was going to tie myself into a giant burlap bag with a baboon.

Why?

Well, baboons are the same approximate size as Dolly Waters, twice as vicious, but somehow more alluring to most hetero men and lesbians.

Oh. So, you wanted something that was dangerous and her size?

Nah, I wanted something that was sexier and her size.

Look, you can go fight a baboon later or something, you're getting a rare opportunity to see what everything would have been like if you were never King of the Jobbers.

Oh, alright...

SIM-SIM-SALABIM!!!

The lights go out, and the screen goes completely black. The lights come back up, and we see Robbie Bourbon and Unknown Soldier standing in a bathroom, but definitely not the same one as before. It's plain, with painted cinderblock surrounding the both of them, a single toilet, a sink with a mirror above, and no shower.

Where are we?

In the bathroom.

Robbie shrugs, since Soldier has a point. He opens the door, and the duo look out into a full game store. Not a GameStop, but one of those rare places where they sell Magic: The Gathering, Pokemon, and Yu-Gi-Oh cards. Miniatures are hanging from displays surrounding them for Warhammer and other hobby games. A voice cries out.

C'mon, Robbie, it's your turn! Who's that guy?

The camera spins to show a crowded table with a morbidly obese guy sitting at it, looking frustrated and annoyed that he had to wait to play the game while Robbie was in the bathroom, or just frustrated and annoyed that Robbie was in the bathroom with someone else. Unknown Soldier looks completely and utterly embarrassed.

What the fuck?

I dunno, this is your SATAN! vision.

Well, I didn't know you were going to be such a huge fucking nerd!

Robbie and Soldier walk to the table, and Robbie sits.

Oh, shit, Magic! I love this game?

.

Whatever...

Robbie looks up to notice that the man across the table is Cyberjaw, only without a cybernetic jaw at all. He's gloriously rotund, so fat his eyes look set in and sunken into his face.

It's your turn, stop stalling.

Robbie picks up a hand of cards in bright orange deck protectors. Then looks at the table.

So, uh, what did you do last turn?

Robbie attempts to stall, trying to figure out exactly what Cyberjaw did, what he's doing, and what it's going to take to finish this game. Unknown Soldier rolls his eyes.

.

Shut the fuck up, I'm winning right now.

You shut the fuck up and play, tell your buddy you guys can go see your special viewing of the Crow after the tournament.

Yeah, we can go watch the Crow...

I heard him.

Robbie turns a few of the cards laid out face up in front of him sideways, and plops a card from his hand onto the table face-up.

Is that gin? Yahtzee? Did you just get Boardwalk?

Huh? Kinda. Blow up all your creatures, my guy is indestructible...

Robbie turns more cards sideways in front of him.

And attack.

Cyberjaw begins to clean up his cards.

Good game.

I won?

Yeah, you just did lethal damage! Were you guys smoking crack in the bathroom?

Soldier nods 'yes' as Robbie nods 'no'. Robbie scribbles something on a slip of paper and turns it in at a desk in the game store, and the clerk at the store looks back at him as though none of what he's seeing is surprising at all. The clerk also looks very familiar.

Won again, huh?

Diamondback?

What? My name's Darrel. You won another tournament.

I did?

Yeah, same as every week, you show up and kick the shit out of a bunch of sad souls with nothing better to do in some silly game you guys are all way too fucking invested in and now they all hate you.

Hate me? I'm Robbie Motherfucking Bourbon!

Yeah, Robbie the asshole who never loses. I hate this job and this dumb game, I wish I had something better to do with my time.

Unknown Soldier and Robbie both turn to the camera and nod their heads 'no' at it, disagreeing with everything that Diamondback is saying in case it's some veiled fourth wall break.

C'mon, we gotta go.

But, I get a prize, I actually won, big time.

Soldier looks around the room at all the scowling faces pointed at Robbie, and the fact he just spent an entire Friday night sitting around playing a collectible card game in a lucha mask according to the rules of this alternate timeline bullshit. How can anyone really be a winner here, especially when the prize is just a few packs of pointless, if not very aesthetically pleasing cards? Robbie looks pleased as punch as he's handed a few packs of pointless if not very aesthetically pleasing cards and walks out with Unknown Soldier.

Sweet! King of Friday Night Magic! Still, not really an upgrade from being King of the Jobbers, going out into the squared circle, kicking ass and taking names then eating pins and cashing checks. Speaking of which, what's up with the XWF?

Robbie pulls out his phone to watch clips from the latest Saturday Night Savagelands, a weird production in an XWF that never saw Robbie Bourbon. He sees clips of LeStrange carrying out orders from the Pest, "Sweetwater" Vinnie Lane, the Hart Champion who never strove to rise up and attempt to gain the Universal Title. Dimallisher, the Professor of Insanety, pushes Trax around, who is dressed in rags and chained at the wrists like Kunta Kinte, obviously never having beaten him. Game Girl destroys yet another soul in the ring to retain her Intercontinental Championship. Darren Dangerous and Peter Gilmour are cutting another promo together as Tag Team Champions, aka the Dangerous Killers, and Sid Feder destroys a deflated Louis D'Ville in something resembling a squash match since his name was never challenged.

Wiggy.

Kinda, you haven't seen the worst of it. The Universal Champ...

Who is the Universal Champion?

You'll see.

Oh. Well, what's up with the dojo?

Yeah, about that...

Fuck! WHERE'S MY GIRLFRIEND!!!

Soldier kind of smiles and laughs. Robbie runs off down the street, and continues to sprint until he makes it to the intersection where his dojo sits. Of course, the original building is still standing since Robbie was never there to burn it down prior to his match with Game Girl. The signage, however, dictates something very horrible has happened. Robbie cringes at the most cringe worthy of the cringe worthiest: Ghost Tank's Dojo. Robbie storms in.

Inside, we see the layout of the dojo, only now it has gloomy colors everywhere. Instead of a Dunkin Donuts there is a Burger King, and every three seconds a customer is spilling their soda everywhere and ruining everything as a deflated and saddened robot from Rocky IV painted to look like it's Ghost Tank rolls over to mop it up.

Robo-Rob! What have they done?

The robot looks at Robbie.

Happy birthday, Paulie.

No!

With that, a very familiar figure walks out of the office of the dojo. Her hair green, it's obviously Blue.

Can I help you?

Oh, Blue! It's you!

Blue? My name is Green. Marney Green. I'm the champ's personal assistant and girlfriend.

What? The champ?

Blue, also known as Marney Green, points to a bevy of pictures on the wall, all depicting Ghost Tank holding the Universal Title. Robbie looks completely blown away by the nigh impossible sight he is beholding of Ghost Tank as the Universal Champion.

How did...

He cashed in his 24/7 case for it, then bought this swank dojo. Are you here for the Pity Party?

Pity party???

Yeah, Ghost Tank's pity party, it usually starts this time every night, though I think you're the first person to show up. Cute mask, by the way.

I love your hair.

Blue giggles.

Thank you. I did it for my boyfriend, but he never notices. He only pisses and moans about one thing or another, but you know, whatever it takes to become a champion.

No, I don't know. I certainly notice, Marney, and I would love to talk more about championship contention...

Blue, aka Marney Green's phone goes off. She checks the text message and rolls her eyes.

Don't go anywhere, I like your personality for some reason. I have to go wipe the champ's ass for him.

Wait, what?

I have to wipe his ass, be right back!

Blue runs off into some hallway in the dojo as Robbie drops to his knees and screams "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" like he's in the Twilight Zone or something like that. Unknown Soldier walks up behind him, a weird grin on his face as he pulls out his cock and starts to shoot a jet of urine at one of the pictures of Ghost Tank on the wall.

Look, I'm alright with being King of the Jobbers, can I just go home and spar with a baboon and get ready to get my ass kicked by a 12 year old girl?

Oh, uh, sure. You sure you don't want to go back and be a Magic champion?

Fuck that noise, gimme the fucking ring and the life, dude, not some claustrophobic existence sheltered from reality.

Soldier wiggles his nose like Tabitha from Bewitched, and in a flash, both men are once again in a bathroom together for the third time in one promo, strictly platonic, I promise.

Jesus, that was weird.

Yeah. Well, I have a present for you. Later, asshole.

Unknown Soldier fades out of existence somehow, looking like he's in a green screen version of the bathroom as someone slowly moves the fader bar sporadically on his image. There's a rattling at the mirrored cabinet above the sink in Robbie's bathroom. Robbie opens it, and a baboon jumps out. Robbie grins, and the baboon attacks, and as he fends off the vicious and brutal assault from the voracious ape, he winks at the camera. After all, so many of his opponents in the past have found analogues for himself to spar with, it was only a matter of time before Robbie too found an analogue for both Dolly Waters and Peter Gilmour all in one.

It's good to be the king.