Robbie Bourbon recently left the sad, war torn state of Syria after doing some more action hero shenanigans. One of his opponents, the highly regarded Doctor Louis D'Ville, made an impact with what is admittedly one very impressive promo.

WHO GOT THE SOUL?

We open to see President Robbie Bourbon seated behind the official desk of the President in the Oval Office. It's late evening, with the window giving a view to the imperial violet late September evening sky. The desk is cluttered with documents, all detailing one such issue or another the President has to focus on and deliver results accordingly on. Behind him is a plethora of framed pictures. There's one of he and Blue, both facing to the right and holding one another. There's one of the magazine cover showcasing Robbie, Pest, and Morbid Angel on the cover of ESPN the Magazine. There's one of Peter Gilmour with a Bullet Club t-shirt and no pants. There's one of Barney Green, completely nude and showcasing his peculiar shaftless penis. There's one of Strong Sad, the character from Homestar Runner, autographed by Ghost Tank. There's one of himself holding Billy Paladin's hand high as Paladin holds the Federweight title.

My fellow Americans.

Robbie clears his throat, taking our attention away from pinpointing whatever pictures he has on the table behind him.

Allow me to introduce myself properly. For those of you unawares, my name is Robbie Motherfucking Bourbon. You're going to remember that name. It's the name of the man who is going to lead our great nation in the wake of Barack Obama's resignation, and I am also the man who is humbly asking for your vote to be the rightfully elected President of the United States. Now, I know some of you out there are thinking to yourself, where did you come from? Those who specifically do not watch professional wrestling, I am an XWF Superstar, and while I have been wrestling for well over a decade, I am glad and happy to be an XWF Superstar, delivering the most entertaining and exciting action seen anywhere in the globe. Some of you are thinking to yourself, what qualifies you to lead, or to govern? I have been a leader for quite some time, and have always reached out to even the toughest of my opponents to work together in some fashion. One time we worked together to determine a new King of the XWF, one time I worked with Trax, Mr. Dominance, one time I worked with TJ Wallace to face down the terrible threat that Donald Trump led, and one time I worked with Pest and Morbid Angel, just for funzies. Now, I not only work with Arby Beef, but also all of you as Americans, to build a better, brighter future for all of us.

Now, is this opinion popular among everyone? No.

There are some who would even detract from everything I have accomplished to tell you how much of a loser I am. People like a certain Louis D'Ville.

If you're not sure who that guy is, you need only ask your neighbor, or postman, or local grocer who he is. Louis D'Ville amassed one of the greatest win streaks in professional wrestling history, dominant in almost every endeavor he ever set out for, with only a handful of blemishes in his career.

Or so he'll have you believe.

You see, not long ago, the XWF was in turmoil. Uncertainty over it's very existence as a business led many to lose any interest in the product, led many to stop caring about it. Many left and searched for greener pastures, trying to make sure they were the first to a new doorstep when the foundation of the greatest wrestling company on the planet was about to collapse. Many superstars simply disappeared, and went to compete where they thought they could get paid the most, or in the case of Dr. D'Ville, where they could continue their spree of feigned dominance by exhibiting little to no work ethic.

I didn't care. I loved the XWF, as I love America, and I continued to bleed and spill my guts around the world working for that same company these so called legends backed away from. Fighting when it was needed, winning when I could, learning from each loss I had to accept. And there were many. I'll be the first to tell you that I lost some matches in my time, and the thought of it happening again doesn't bother me one bit, because I can and will get myself back off the floor, shake myself off, and continue to move onward and upward. I can do it for myself, and I can do it for America. If you don't believe me, look at the XWF today. The foundation is firmly in place, and my contributions to that are noted. Some would say I'm a bit notorious, due to my affiliation with the Black Hand, or the fact I dealt with personal demons; to those who do, I question why they weren't around to prevent such a measure to begin with? After all, hindsight is 20/20, and that's universal. Foresight, however, that is a true rarity, and one that I really do exemplify.

Such as the foresight in knowing not to quit.

When Dr. D'Ville left for his greener pasture, things didn't pan out quite like he expected. For starters, the XWF simply did not die and fade out of existence. It never stopped. He was disappointed after his loss to, then rookie now afterthought Alexis Riot, and felt he would get better chances and enhance his career persuing a more, oh, Old School approach to the business of professional wrestling. That wasn't the case. Many didn't care what he had to say, or more importantly, didn't really like his poor work ethic and readiness to excuse himself from having to participate or compete. I have it on good authority, I went to wrestling school with a guy by the name of Marvolo, though I have a way better fashion sense.

And he lost.

Now, he has come back to the XWF, perhaps too embarrassed to continue on in the light of defeat, and those greener pastures started tasting a lot like Astroturf. He has come back, claiming to still hold a place on the top of the mountain, as the shining beacon to all who wrestle as the best wrestler in the XWF. He even has the audacity to say my career has been derailed.

Robbie holds up his half of the Tag Team Championships and points at it.

This is what the top of a mountain looks like. While you were getting your good eye smashed in by some footnote in XWF history, and granted Riot's a footnote for beating you, I was busting my ass, night in, night out, for this. The training, the work, the blood, sweat, and tears, the exasperation, the feeling of coming too close to something for it to be taken away from you, overcoming loathing and rejection and the labels being tossed at me, first because of some very, very not whimsical whatsoever kind of fuckery that saw my half of the tag team titles taken away from me because of Trax's arrogance, and again, if you look up the word "overrated" in the dictionary, you'll see a picture of that guy. Then it was because Pest had a huge fixation on Ginger Snaps. Seriously, every time I asked the guy what we were going to do for a game plan in a match, he'd whip a picture of her out and start spanking it. I did seize an opportunity, but I'm no opportunist by any stretch, because I am now one half of the XWF Tag Team Champions with a hell of a partner at my side, and what's more, one that I don't have to treat like some kind of goon. Been there, done that, I played the James Bond villain before, I've played the goon before, and your partner doesn't scare me. Muscles McCracksmoker over there doesn't have the strength I have, and for all your bluster, you don't have the technique to bring us down. The President of the United States visits Ireland this Wednesday, not on a diplomatic mission, but to come home again with this title that I worked for, that I bled for, that I cried over, and that I would do anything for. Your confidence is misleading you, Louis, it really is, because you're walking in on the wrong end of the bloodbath this time. Robbie Bourbon isn't walking alone, and he never has as you so astutely pointed out, and Bourbon Beef as a team is going to take two great individuals and remind them that they are just that; individuals, not a team.

Shit, kid, you're only going after the Tag Team Championships because my partner and I are holding them. THAT is fucking mountain top. That is what makes the XWF the greatest wrestling federation on the planet. You wouldn't know it, but I bet if you stuck it out and kept getting an ass whooping or two over in your greener pastures, you might have learned what it means to be an actual champion to the people, and not some self righteous, self important, lazy little glob who's impressive record is overshadowed by his own ego.

You can take your little session and blow it out your ass; anything you fart out is going to have twenty times the meaning of anything you have to say to me. That's because if it weren't for guys like me, Ginger Snaps, Scully, Vinnie Lane, and even Trax, we'd be doing this in your greener pasture, and again, you'd be chasing me down. "Hey, it's Robbie! Doncha remember me? I'm the guy who ran off and wouldn't challenge Vinnie Lane after he beat my ass for the title! I'm the guy who wouldn't stick around the XWF because I thought that title would be gone when the company went under! Isn't this a sweet new universe? Make me relevant!" Same as now, really. It's no wonder you want to feel the universe in your hands again, Louis. I helped reshape it, and now you have no clue what it fucking feels like.

A man in a suit storms in. He leans in and whispers something in Robbie's ear.

What the fuck do you mean saying that is "not Presidential"? It's a free fucking country, damn it.

The man whispers again in Robbie's ear.

What?

The man nods and leaves.

Well, it seems dropping F-bombs is not good for a Presidential candidate, as my poll numbers have dropped considerably.

Fuck it, though.