Beheading Matches, the creation of Savage Saturday Night, and other shit that Robbie Bourbon came up with that he gets no credit for whatsoever.

Poor thing.

WHAT'S EXPECTED

We open to see the darkened scene of a nightclub, circa 2016. The lights blink to the sound of an artist, only not one that can beheld here and now. We see a bevy of young people, some feeling the song, some feeling out of place due to the added gravitas of those not entirely drugged out and dancing and having an experience. We see Vinnie Lane, March, 2016, one of Robbie Bourbon's partners in which his team actually won the title of King of the XWF, but one where the sway towards the crown was pulled in his way.

Ask John Madison. He ate a fucking Robbiebomb through the table, and everybody on the fucking street calls him a legend when Robbie called him street pizza.

In a corner, we see Disco Steve Sayors, Cyberjaw, the man with the cyberjetic jaw, Diamondback, the man who can blend into any crowd, and Xtreme Travel Agent, Cyberjaw's main squeeze, Joe Biden, Vice-King of the Jobbers. We see Robbie in the corner.

So, like about seven months ago.

The XWF was in serious shit. There were massive concerns over whether it would continue. Most people thought that some Other Shitty Wrestling company would take dominance. Nope. Mr. Motherfucking Dominance, Robbie Motherfucking Bourbon, He Who Dominates Dominance, was around, and was fighting when Trax was too chickenshit, too worried about his paycheck cashing, most importantly, too scared of then champion, Vinnie Lane.

Chris Chaos was a fucking afterthought.

Seriously. Afterthought. There was this other Chris. His name was Isles. He had this whole tendency of thinking I was the yin to his yang. Not fucking possible, as far as I'm concerned, because everybody, including Vinnie Lane, counts me as the yin to their yang. Well, I'm not saying I don't fit in that description, but all around, Chris Isles was a deluded simple with twice the brains of Trax, and to be honest, another guy that Trax was too chickenshit to face but still wonders aloud to the XWF Universe why he was too chickenshit to beat them. Chris Isles was a vicious wrestler in the XWF. He was a legit Intercontinental Champion, he was the captain of a War Games team.

Robbie rubs his nose.

Chris Isles broke my nose.

Robbie looks at the camera.

Chris Isles is fucking gone.

Trax has never beaten me. He's never even tried, because he didn't even care.

Because he knew I was winning to begin with and because I was earning a win.

Trax could never even sniff Chris Isles's shit. I've had so many partners in the XWF it's almost a joke, but the biggest joke of them all? Trax. He gave up the one guy willing to help defend his XWF Universal Championship against the CCWF, and instead...

Paper championship, blank Tag Champs, bullshit beatable XWF Champ afraid of the CCWF and fighting it.

Massive, massive .

All around.

So the spearhead against the CCWF gets asked, one day, while you're a paper champion, how do we get our ratings back up?

See, Robbie Bourbon invented Savage Saturday Night.

Because the CCWF minds just, well, sucked in comparison.

Vinnie Lane was CCWF champion.

Also, a competitor in OSW.

Robbie steps out of the booth while downing a bottle of Desani.

Welp, happy hunting, fellas.

I'm not creating Savage Saturday Night at the moment.

See you ringside.