We see a shopping mall in the United States. While many of these monoliths of consumerism are dying across middle America, in the more affluent parts of the country they still thrive, and during mid-November, serve as a shrine to none other than Santa Claus.

It is here we see Bobby Bourbon along with his new companion of late, Teal. Bobby is dressed, head to toe, like a pirate while Teal's face is painted like a pumpkin. Both approach the center of the Mall where, as expected, a line is formed with children waiting to see Santa. The parents all shell out good money to get the photos of their tots with the man in the red suit. It is here Bobby makes his stand.

"Hey!" Bobby yells at Santa, who ignores him, focusing on the children. "You're not the real Santa, you're a phony! It's my job as a professional wrestler to call you out for all your foibles and then beat you up!"

"Is that how it works?" Teal looks at Bobby inquisitively. "I mean, yeah, it's what everybody in your line of work seems to do all the time in the XWF, but is that really what pro-wrestling is all about?"

"Huh." Bobby's eyes widen, his face softening, as though he's coming to a hard realization. "You know, you're right, coming to this mall to pester Santa is just another in a long line of crazy behaviors I engage in because of the business I'm in. Seb is lauded for being batshit insane with voices in his head, then, in turn, speaking ill of his opponent, and isn't that was everybody does?"

"Oh, no, we agreed." Teal cocks an eyebrow. "We're picking on Santa because it's a fun thing to do. It's not Christmas until it's Christmas and that fat weirdo giving crabs to children needs to be contained."

"Fair." Bobby's eyes widen again as he reaches into the interior pocket of his very fancy pirate coat. He pulls his phone out and puts it against his skull. "Hello?" Bobby nods. "Hey Peter." Bobby lowers his phone looking at Teal. "It's Peter Principle!" Bobby quickly puts the phone back against his head. "Sorry you were breaking up, could you repeat that?" Bobby asks politely, since Peter was talking while he was explaining to Teal the situation. "Oh, sure! What team?" Bobby blinks. "Caesar's Legion?" Bobby slow blinks. "Adeyemi's squad? Oh, okay!" Bobby grins. "Yep, see you there!" Bobby nods. "Oh, you're not going to Three Mile Island? Too radioactive? Alright Pete, take care!" Bobby disconnects the call.

"Good news?" Teal looks excited for Bobby as people start to notice the pirate and the Jill-o-Lantern having a discrete chat not far from Santa at a shopping mall.

"I'm going to War Games! I get to extend my streak for having the most eliminations in War Games history!" A woman approaches the duo.

"I love your get up, are you guys on TikTok?" Her genuine curiosity is well founded considering the Christmas decorations everywhere in the mall.

"No, we are not, and who are you? Do you think it's alright to just approach strangers in public?" Teal turns the energy around, not matching but absolutely heightening the scenario with attitude.

"I'm sorry, but with the outfits..." She begins before being cut off again.

"Yeah, well, you're dressed like a peasant, we're in awesome costumes, how do you like being judged for your clothes?" Bobby cocks an eyebrow.

"Geez, nevermind then!" The woman walks away, frustrated by the rude and ostentatious Bobby Bourbon. Bobby turns to Santa.

"You sit there and you judge, naughty or nice, but you know what, you imposter and part time slacker who doesn't work 10 other months of the year? At War Games, I will render final judgment on all my opponents!"

"You've gotten a lot farther than you should have, but then you haven't met Bobby Bourbon, either. Your ride's over, mutie. Time to die.”

So, let's just open up by being honest.

Adeyemi, Raven, and Nickles.

You won the fucking lottery on this one like you were in Nipton. Axel Shaw might have some talent, to be fair.

I am simply one spectacular talent, bar none, beyond fucking compare!

Now, Captain, oh my captain, you can ask Raven and Nickles about what it's like for me to carry them across a finish line. I've done it for them, until, well, they thought they could carry me and their spines broke under the weight of it all.

Yours can break too, in due time.

But let's look at our first round of victims.

There's Shawn Warstein, and he couldn't captain a gravy boat at whatever family get-together he gets himself uninvited to.

There's Dadbod, who's biggest claim to fame is ejaculating inside of a woman and having kids. I mean, well done, you've completed a biological imperative and all, and technically gushing inside someone's guts makes you, by default, cooler than an Incel, but I wouldn't call that an accomplishment! Hell, tell your kids to be excited, dude, three seconds in the ring with me can mean six months at home with them after plus a fun cast they can do art projects on in between your bouts of physical therapy!

Tommy Wish? Jesus, he is the ass pimple of the XWF. Always there, just serves as a target for where to kick more often than not.

Heh, then there's Miller. Bam fucking Miller. Now there's a man I've been waiting to see in the ring.

Actually that'd be Cyph3r, but he's not getting past his first round, no sirree.

Bam is a guy who could be great, could be amazing, could be legendary, if it weren't for the fact that being great, that amazing the fans, that lasting enough to become legend meant being good at your job.

Bam, my job is to show up in an arena and give the fans blood. I do that job well. Your job is to show up and bleed.

We're going to do great business in that ring.