The Motherfuckers face off against Hanari Carnes and Jenny Myst at Warfare.

THE MOTHERFUCKERS SHOW SOME CLASS

We see Robbie Bourbon sitting at a desk in front of a large dry erase board. Behind him, on the board, we see a series of equations. Robbie is in his usual garb; spangly sequined jacket, his spandex singlet underneath, the only variation is a brown false mustache is placed on his upper lip atop his ginger natural mustache, right below the cusp of his mask. He pulls his phone out, glancing towards the door. He presses the screen a few times, then holds it to his head.

"Hey babe."

Silence, as Robbie listens to the other person on the phone.

"Not bad, not bad. How are you?"

Ruby the centaur is doing well.

"Hah, that's great!"

Robbie smiles as Ruby speaks. He replies.

"Oh, I'm doing what me and Pig planned on. We're working undercover as teachers in a high school."

This is why Robbie is in a classroom, it would seem.

"Uh huh. That's exactly why."

Ruby seems to be savvy as to why Robbie Bourbon and Bearded War Pig are undercover at a high school.

"I am currently getting ready to teach my first Algebra class. I don't know what Pig is teaching, we'll be rendezvousing later."

Robbie looks quizzically at the white board behind him and all the equations on it. A bell rings.

"Whoop, gotta go babe."

A brief word is said from the other end of the line as Robbie blushes.

"I miss you too. Bye!"

Robbie puts the phone away as teenagers filter into the room. Most look bored and less than enthusiastic to be in an Algebra classroom, albeit bewildered at the sight of the large man in wrestling gear and a fake mustache sitting at the desk. As they all find their seats, one last student rushes in through the door looking frazzled. He hurriedly finds his chair. A bell rings again and Robbie stands, closing the door.

"Hello! Your regular teacher, Mrs. Scrivens, is going to be away for some time due to a family emergency."

Most of the students look nonplussed at the notion of Mrs. Scrivens being away.

"My name is Ro..."

Robbie catches himself before giving away his true identity to the class. He fidgets with the fake mustache, which is slipping off his face due to the sweat accruing underneath on his real mustache.

"I am Dr. Inspector Giggles. So, as we can see..."

Robbie points at the board and looks at it before turning back to the class.

"...algebra."

--------------------------------

Bearded War Pig is in what seems to be a teachers lounge. His attire is something out the normal for him. Wearing a blue and white plaid shirt tucked into a pair of tan slacks cinched tight to his waist with a black leather belt. His feet are snug in a pair of black dress socks resting in a pair of brown Sperry’s. Sipping black Columbian coffee from a large mug with the phrase “Blood makes the Green grass Grow!” removing the mug from his lips with his right hand. Using his left to grab the briefcase he is using giving the final touch to his character off from the table in front of him.

“Interesting choice of coffee mug to use at a high school.”

A pretty brunette says wearing a grey and white plaid long skirt, a white smooth dress shirt, and a pair of black frames resting on her nose. She is smiling giving the illusion she isn’t being sarcastic, and she appreciates the dark humor. Pig looks at his mug and then back to the woman who looks like a typical movie teacher whose sex appeal would honestly give all the boys in her classroom a boner, even the ones that are into other boys. Not being able to help but smile back Pig responds with smoothness like cream cheese on a bagel.

“Oh, this old thing? I’ve had this mug since the first time I got back from the devil’s sand box. Not quite as thrilling as teaching adolescents about the fine arts of human reproduction.”

The woman blushes before her lips part.

“So you where in the military, I assume, what branch?”

Pig takes another sip from his mug before answering the woman.

“Yes, Marine Corps. I sure do miss those days but now dodging spit balls instead of bullets is kind of nice.”

Pig takes another sip and looks to the clock. The woman looks to the clock as well and then back into Pig’s oceanic blues.

“So, what made you want to teach sex ed to preadults?”

Pig smiles wide.

“You know a lot of my buddies in the Corps got all kinds of sexually transmitted diseases from fucking prostitutes and well I seen second hand what that shit can do to people. Just want to try and stop a climbing epidemic. If I can get through to just one of the youths in my classroom, I consider that a huge win. No one wants a drippy dick or raunchy vagina!”

Both laugh flirtatiously.

“Well I suppose I should get at it, don’t want to be late for my first class, first day. Hopefully I don’t come off as nervous. I’d hate to have them believe they can run all over me from the first impression.”

The woman runs her finger down his chest.

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about mister …?”

Pig grabs her hand and kisses it before giving his name.

“Mister Bojangles. Misses …?”

Blushing the woman responds.

“Miss Golden, I teach College Prep English, I really hope to see you around.”

Pig raises his mug before strutting out of the teachers lounge with a smile on his face. Hearing the door click behind him he thinks out load.

“I’m going to get to fuck an English teacher again…”

One of the students in the hall just looks at him in shock and awe. Pig stares at him with the thousand yard stare.

“Get to class you little shit, I was talking to myself dammit!”

The kid wide eyed and jaw slacked scampers off like a good little obedient student. Pig continues down the hall to his classroom. Grabbing his mug and brief case with one hand he grasps the doorknob swinging the door open. He quickly and smoothly walks to his desk. Setting down his briefcase first. Chugging the rest of his coffee before setting down the mug. Pig then jolts his attention to the clock, as the second hand hits the number twelve signaling the first period bell. His attention then violently jolts to the students, still standing he begins his introduction.

“Hello all of you brilliant minds. My name is Mister Bojangles, I will be filling in for your teacher Misses Karrol. She has come down with some serious sickness, I don’t have the details too, nor do I care. I am here for one reason and one reason only. That is to try and teach you all about the dangers of unsafe procreation!”

Pig slightly nervous opens his briefcase and begins fidgeting through papers of no meaning, his Smith and Wesson forty caliber rests in a custom built in holster at the top. Slightly believing maybe eating a bullet would be easier than trying to relate back to Teenage horniness, but who the hell was he kidding teenage horniness was something he never grew out of. Closing the case, he begins to walk around the classroom with nothing but pure confidence and alpha stature.

-------------

"Today, we are going to go over the problems on the board."

Robbie stands up and looks at the white board with some hesitation. The rudimentary algebraic formulae in front of him seem to strike him as an alien language.

"Okay, so, we're going to solve for X, I think. So, as we all know, X is always represented by Xtreme, so these equations are all Xtreme in some way or another. Do we have any volunteers who would like to come up and tackle this one?"

Robbie points at the first equation, which reads "3X + 2X = 7". He turns, eagerly hoping one of the students is prepared. One has his hand raised.

"Yes, um, what's your name?"

"Todd."

"Okay, Todd, solve for Xtreme."

"One point four."

"Wow, big brain on Todd! Way to go! I mean, that was really, really obvious for me, since I am a math teacher, but you know what? You get an A on that one."

Todd half smiles, somewhat confused by Robbie's suggestion he got an A.

"Okay, who has this next one?"

Robbie points to the next equation. It reads "6 (3 + X) = 24". Todd raises his hand again.

"Oh, big brain Todd, I get it, but why don't you let another of your fellow students have a chance to win?"

Everybody in the classroom seems baffled by the suggestion that getting the equation right was victory. This equation would be best represented as Problem + Solution = Victory. Todd slowly lowers his hand as Robbie looks around the room, lost as to what to do. He points at a random girl.

"Hey, you, Hot Topic with the Skrillex hairdo."

The teenaged girl who is in black makeup looks shocked.

"Yeah, you, are you gonna solve for X for us here and win?"

"What do I win?"

"An A."

She looks around sheepishly as the other kids in the class chuckle.

"Um, what if I don't want an A?"

Robbie's eyes go wide.

"Oh, you definitely want an A."

"Um, is it one point four?"

Robbie looks at the equation again and back at the girl. Robbie then looks at Todd.

"Is it?"

Todd shakes his head no.

"It is not one point four. You get a C."

"Why do I get a C?"

Robbie blinks hard, not allowing himself to become distracted.

"Young missy, we aren't solving for C. We're solving for X. That is why you get a C. Plus Todd said it wasn't one point four, so..."

"God, it's one!"

Another student in the back row looks up from her phone. Robbie looks at Todd for affirmation, but he is busy looking at the disruptive student himself.

"Excuse me, what is your name miss?"

"Angelina."

"Angelina, you get an F. I don't care if you got the answer right or wrong, you cut off the spooky goth nerd and religion, hence talking about God, is not allowed in public school."

"I get an F? You don't even know how to do any of this math!"

Robbie folds his arms and smirks.

"Oh yeah? If you're so clever, why don't you teach the class?"

Angelina rolls her eyes and walks to the front of the class.

--------------------------

“Now the notes the school, your teacher, and principal left me. Basically, wants me to have you read very lame and boring outdated dialect from a worthless textbook most likely from the fifties or something. Terrible idea in my opinion and since this is my classroom now, the only opinion that matters. So instead of being dull and not very helpful whatsoever, we will learn the horrors of STD’s, how the body works, and other sexually induced chemicals effect your adolescent minds.”

One of the front row, proper, and obviously by the books students raises their eager hand. Pig rolls his eyes as he calls on the teacher’s pet.

“I’m going to assume you have a grievance about what I just stated. Even though it won’t be of any concern of mine, because I am Mister Bojangles and you are just?”

“Sarah Lockhart. If you veer from the textbooks how will we pass our exams? How will we be prepared for further education? How will we know how to correspond to the chemicals in our brain that make us not use our minds when it comes to the opposite sex?”

“One, I am the man who will be grading your exams. Two, you’ll never be prepared for further education because our education system was an overrated and poorly designed system. Three, when those chemicals finally find their way into your over analyzing and very boring brain, there will be no way to control your urges.”

Bearded War Pig walks to Sarah Lockhart’s desk. Gripping her textbook tight he hurls it out the open second story window of his classroom. Nailing some stoner skipping class right in the head, knocking him clean off his feet. Whispering to her so only she can hear.

“Let your hair down, live a little, and maybe you’ll get finger blasted in the bleachers of a football game before graduation.”

Pig taps her desk three times and begins circling around the students like herding dog keeping his herd consolidated.

“Now if there isn’t anymore questioning of my teaching tactics maybe we can get on with the first lesson and have a little fun!”

The silence allows for BWP to continue his teachings.

“Sex! The act to create life. Procreation. To us humans it is sometimes more. A way to express our love or care for our significant other. Some of you down the road will use to achieve higher positions in work. Some will just do it for the thrill and enjoyment it brings. Some will use it to pay bills and make a living. Some will use it to control and manipulate your spouse. I’m not here to sugar coat a damn thing. Sex can be fuckin’ great! Sex can also be a very dangerous act. From the words of the great and late Uncle Ben with great power comes great responsibility.”

One of the back row, slacker kids blurts out.

“Spider Man was the shit!”

Pig quickly grabs an eraser from the chalk board and slings it smacking the kid with pinpoint accuracy right on the forehead.

“Don’t you ever disrupt my lecture again. Plus, everyone knows spider man is awesome if you like your villains to be able to seek revenge. Everyone knows the Punisher is the real deal not leaving his enemies a chance to strike later! Peter Parker and Mary Jane can be used as an example for Miss Lockhart why even when you are super that sexual attraction will cause mayhem no matter who or how smart you believe you are. There is a handful of times when Peter’s urge to bend Mary Jane over apart of a exploding building had almost cost him his life and the lives of many others.

It is our primal and a basic instinct that yes, we in a civilized culture of come to somewhat maintain. Keep isolated. But will never fully be able to eradicate. Hence why we have rapists, pedophiles, and just plain freaks. Some of us have complete loss of those urges and do things, that we find appalling and illegal. Deep in our minds though we all have no control of this. Example, some of you may or may not be apart of my sexual flavored color wheel. Does that mean I would act on those urges or feelings, hell no! It wouldn’t be worth the risk of loosing my 401K or my summers off where I get to binge drink and write failed novels!

Not that there aren’t any teachers that would bang their students, because well it is 2019 and it seems to be a popular thing now, where the hell where those teachers when I was in your place huh?”

Some of the students’ chuckle.

“Tough crowd…”

--------------------

Angelina, a high school student, is seen at the head of the class in front of the white board. Robbie looks at her confidently.

"Angelina, you seem like a gifted student, so today you are going to help all of us..."

Robbie is cut off by another adult hurriedly walking into the class.

"I'm so sorry I'm late!"

The grown up looks around the room, then at Angelina, then specifically at Robbie.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Dr. Inspector Giggles, here to teach this gibberish math. Who the hell are you?"

The other adult looks less than pleased.

"My name is Natalie Scrivens, why are you in my classroom?"

Robbie looks confused. He adjusts his fake mustache and straightens his spangly sequined jacket.

"I, uh, I'm supposed to be teaching here, room two eleven."

"This is room two thirteen."

The kids all laugh, except Angelina, who shoots Robbie a glare as if to imply he is a complete and utter imbecile.

"Huh. Well, okay, that makes sense. Algebra sucks."

A few students cheer the sentiment. Todd looks kind of grumpy since this is his specialty. Angelina rolls her eyes.

"Well, class, I gotta go, sorry for the interruption!"

Robbie stands and walks confidently out of the classroom, then looks up at the room numbers themselves. As he does, he sees what looks like a hall monitor and a janitor looking around suspiciously. Robbie looks at them and they stare back, then immediately dip into a stairwell. Robbie's eyes narrow.

"Huh, those two might require further investigating."

Robbie turns and looks up at the room numbers, and finds 211. He enters the classroom, and whatever was happening inside immediately stops. The kids are all meandering about, sitting here and there, not in desks, staring back at Robbie, their gossip sessions and playtime on their phones interrupted. Robbie clears his throat.

"Hello, class, I'm sorry I am late. I'm your new..."

Robbie squints at the whiteboard and decor of the room. Pictures of George Washington, Abe Lincoln, John F. Kennedy, and Teddy Roosevelt are seen on the wall. A map of the United States is seen. On the whiteboard, we see, in bright red letters against the whiteboard, "The Louisiana Purchase".

"Is this the American History class?"

Some of the students laugh, and one nods their head yes.

"Sweet. I'm Dr. Inspector Giggles, your new American History teacher."

Robbie walks into the room and over to the whiteboard. He turns to the class.

"Alright, get into your seats."

The kids all ignore Robbie, continuing to gossip and play on their phones. Robbie purses his lips. One kid looks back at him. Robbie squints at the kid.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Todd."

"Really? What is it with Todds these days?"

The kid shrugs, mostly very confused by the question and not getting the reference to algebra fan Todd. Robbie begins wiping off the whiteboard, and a few of the kids notice. Once it's clean, Robbie turns to the class.

"GET IN YOUR DAMN SEATS!"

The kids all look shocked, and take their regular places in class. As they do, Robbie begins to write on the whiteboard. He finishes, and it now simply reads "WHY AMERICA IS THE GREATEST COUNTRY ON EARTH".

"I'm your new American History teacher, Dr. Inspector Giggles. Now, I saw you guys were at the part of the Louisiana Purchase. Who here is confused by the Louisiana Purchase?"

The kids look around. One raises their hand with a smirk.

"Yes, what's your name?"

"Luke."

"Okay, Cool Hand Luke, what about the Louisiana Purchase confuses you?"

"Well..."

"More importantly, why are you letting a room full of people know you're confused?"

Some of the other kids chuckle, as does Luke. Robbie's eyes go wide as he smiles.

"Hip crowd."

Robbie turns his head and sees a textbook nail a kid in the skull outside of his window. He quickly dismisses it and turns back to the class. He reaches a hand towards Luke, beckoning him to continue.

"Well, Mr. Giggles..."

"It's Dr. Inspector Giggles. I didn't go to inspector medical school for nothing."

"Oh, uh, Dr. Inspector Giggles, was the Louisiana Purchase Louisiana fast?"

Robbie rubs his chin in consideration.

"You mean like Popeyes?"

The kids chuckle as Luke beams, his lame joke scouted and understood by Robbie. Robbie turns and puts a bullet point on the whiteboard, listing Popeyes as a reason America is the greatest country on Earth.

"Okay, so Cajun food is definitely one of the reasons America is the greatest country on earth. What else?"

Another student raises their hand. Robbie points at them.

"Uh, McDonalds?"

Robbie nods eagerly. He turns and writes "Plenty of Jobs" on the whiteboard. He then turns to the class.

"My favorite thing about this country, the greatest part of America, is the ability to be self-made. Does anybody here know what that means?"

The students look around. One raises their hand.

"What's your name?"

The student looks surprised.

"Skyler."

"Okay, Skyler, what does 'self-made' mean?"

"Doesn't it mean you can make your own food, clothes, and stuff?"

Robbie furrows his brow beneath his mask and strokes his fake mustache.

"Well, I guess, but in this case, no. Self-made is the ability to strive, to work hard, and to invest in yourself and become whatever you want to become. To be whoever you want to be. Neil Armstrong wanted to go to space, so he busted his ass and became an astronaut. Harriet Tubman wanted to be free, so she got free, then she worked her ass off and freed a bunch of other people who were held in slavery. You know what, I think we're going to watch a movie that shows just how amazing it is to be in this country, and how you can achieve whatever you want."

The kids look excited. Movie day in class means they don't have to really do anything, after all. Robbie pulls down a projection screen in front of the whiteboard, and walks over to his desk. He looks through a few drawers, finally pulling out a remote control, which illuminates the screen from a projector on the ceiling.

"This movie is about a man who is a personal hero to me, and to millions of others."

Robbie sits at the desk and the screen shows the same view of his computer monitor. He opens a browser window and navigates to Amazon Prime Video. He signs in, and we see he navigates to the search bar. The camera zooms in to show Robbie's eyes gleaming with delight. He types in a few keystrokes, then clicks a few times. The video he had in mind begins to play. The students, however, have a few questions.

"What is up with his jacket?"

Robbie beams.

"Kick ass jackets are awesome. Letter jackets, leather jackets, bomber jackets, you name it."

Another student pipes up.

"Why is he rhyming so much?"

Robbie beams.

"Because he has that style and flow that shows he is in the know."

Another student speaks.

"Why is he saying M.F. so much?"

Robbie smirks and crooks an eyebrow under his mask.

"You mean 'motherfucker'? Because that's real talk, that's why."

Another student sounds concerned.

"I don't think my parents would want me watching this, with the language, and that lady isn't wearing a shirt."

Robbie beams.

"I know, she's got big old boobs, and there's nothing wrong with that. Don't objectify yourself, ladies, but there's nothing wrong with an amazing set of jugs."

Another kid speaks.

"Why does he have such a huge crew?"

Robbie's smile broadens.

"Because giving family and your friends opportunity is one of the better parts of being a self-made individual."

A final kid speaks.

"Who is this guy?"

Robbie stands. He points directly at the class.

"This man is an icon of American culture, the very fabric of what it means to be a self-made individual in this country, and you will all remember the name of..."

The camera zooms out, and the opening credits of the film in question finish, and we see the exact title as Robbie proclaims the name.

"...Dolemite."

Robbie sits back down and continues to teach Dolemite to his American History students.

-----------------------

Bearded War Pig is continuing his lecture to his Sexual Education class.

“STD’s almost up there with having a child unprepared. You can’t get rid of a child, unless your okay with being a dumpster fire of abortions and are prepared to feel the guilt of stealing away innocence for your own selfish reasonings. STD’s now days are manageable for the most part. Some you will have forever some can be cured with a few visits to the doctor and a couple uncomfortable procedures. For example, Jenny Mist from the XWF is basically a walking STD billboard, it is said she catches them like Pokémon.

Nothing to be proud of, but she seems to be for some odd reason. It is usually the overconfident hotties that will be hosts to the STD’s. Not many people want to bang ugly timid creatures. At least not openly, myself, I am a lover of all women, they all simply have something beautiful about them, most likely the reproduction organs. My Neanderthal genes just make me want to spread my seed like a lumber jack traveling far across land and seas.

So, to help stop the spread of venereal disease, use a rubber, dental dams, and the best abstinence. It will be the hardest, I’d recommend porn and keeping yourself busy if you go that route. Not that some of you probably won’t have any other option but that. Like I said I am here to be honestly blunt and truthful, it is the only way to teach the hardest lesson of life…”

Suddenly a loud crash and some other disturbing noises come from the hall. BWP stops his lecture and walks over to his briefcase picking it up before making his way toward the classroom door to check what all the commotion is about…

-------------------

As Robbie delights in showing a room full of high school students the work of Rudy Ray Moore, a commotion is heard in the hall.

"Y'all chill in here, I'm going to see what that was all about. Be easy and don't get yourselves pregnant while I check that shit out!"