Keesler Air Force Base
Biloxi, Mississippi

We see Corey standing next to a military officer who, judging by his jacket, has seen more than his far share of combat and awards. The scene seems to be set in some kind of briefing room, but there's a peculiar sight in there too. A laptop and some kind of projector looking device seems to be hooked up to a large server. The officer seems to just be finishing tapping in some kind of command into the laptop when the camera trains on him and Corey.

We ready?

The officer nods. Yes, but as I said....

Hey, I'm from the XWF. We don't wither under insults, sir. Corey turns to the camera. Welcome to promo number three. Which is, at present, still three more promos than Bearded War Pig has done. No one is more disappointed than me to be missing out on his madcap semi-nude shenanigans. But I do get it. When you're staring down the barrel of a brick shit house of pain and suffering like me, well heh, I can understand the man being a little shook.

The following image appears just above Corey's head. He looks up at it and scowls.



Nope, never gonna live that shit down.

The image thankfully disappears.

Anyhow, now I've got to scramble to put this third one together and BWP is giving me absolutely nothing. Thankfully, like all the best trash talk superstars, I don't need his input! That's right, we're doing numuro tres and flying solo because quite frankly, that's how much this TV championship means to Lux and I. But it's still nice to have somebody to bounce off of, even if it's not the guy who's contractually obligated to do it. So to that end, I figured I'd stick with the theme we got going and find one of the most iconic and vicious trash talkers in armed forces history to go toe to toe with...R. LEE ERMEY!



Corey frowns abruptly.

And then I was informed he is dead.



Shit. But hey, all is not lost. Because that is where General Wright comes into play. General, care to explain?

The officer clears his throat and proceeds to info dump.

About 5 years ago, the Pentagon started experimenting with an A.I. Boot camp commander program in response to concerns that the newest slate of recruits were too “soft”. The plan was to create a virtual boot camp commander so tough, so unwavering, and so downright mean that it would destroy any lingering soft feelings in our recruits and turn them into the calloused killing machines we needed. Naturally, we based the program on R. Lee. The problem was, the program was TOO good at its intended function, and instead of toughing up the recruits in it's trial run, in turned them into blubbering little bitches. So, we were forced to end the program and decommission it.

Until now! Corey intones melodramatically. So BWP, don't you worry about that promo. Just sit back watch and learn from the master. And then watch as I school the master. Making me MORE the master. Or something.

General Wright goes to the laptop, but seems pensive. You're absolutely sure you want to do this, son? He's very, very mean.

No worries, sir. Like I said, I work for the XWF. I've got skin as thick as steel.

Very well. The officer hits one more button on the laptop, and the server thrums to life. After about 10 seconds, the projector like device comes to life as well, and an image starts to coalesce into the unmistakeable form of R. Lee Ermey circa Full Metal Jacket.

Corey's jaw drops. Wow, he looks so real! R. Lee starts to look around, seemingly a bit confused. Corey also looks confused in turn. So, is he going to say anything....?

Oh, I'm going to say something alright. Just as soon as I figure out why it smells like a homosexual's gaping anus in here! R. Lee barks. Then, he focuses on Corey. Oh, nevermind!

Corey claps his hands and laughs. Hahahahaha! Ok, ok! Humor's a little risque, but still pretty funny.

The virtual projection of Ermey frowns. No, what's pretty funny is how you were turned down from joining a K-Pop group for being TOO femme, you nancy! Now tell me why you dragged me out here, I was porking all kinds of sweet virtual tail in there.

Well sir, I brought you in to pinch hit for a guy I was supposed to have a trash talk battle with, but he never showed up.

Ermey puts a hand to his forehead in consternation. Wait, so let me get this straight. Somebody bitched out on a trash talk battle with YOU? Who the fuck is this quivering vagina of a man?

Bearded War Pig, sir. A member of the United States Armed Forces.

Ermey looks like he's going to be sick. A member of our United States Armed Forces ducked from a fight with a walking pair of dick sucking lips?

Well....heh.... Corey suddenly looks a bit insecure. I've always thought of my lips as bountiful, really.....

NOBODY CARES WHAT YOU THINK! Ermey howls, causing Corey to jump. Then, wheeling towards the camera, he LIGHTS BWP THE FUCK UP!


BEARDED WAR PIG! I'd tell you to stand at attention but with a spine made of gelatin I'm not sure that's possible! Son, you better be a Navy man, because otherwise I got no other explanation for why you pissed your pants and ran from this moist rectum! So now you're gonna untuck your pecker from between your thighs and take what you got comin' like a man!

Calling you a PUSSY is an insult to stretched slits everywhere, so I'm just gonna call you an inverted cock. You're such a spineless fuck puppet that even your dick wants nothing to do with you, retreating by sucking up inside your torso and trying to suicide out your asshole the next time you drop trow and “take a wide stance” in that truck stop bathroom you make a beeline for every time Grindr dries up.

Ok, ok, hold on. Corey interjects. Could we maybe cool it on the gay jokes, it's a little....

SUCK MY DICK!

Hoooooo 'kay.....

Ermey returns to the camera with a growl. So apparently Doc Mc(Butt)Stuffins is taking exception to my brand of humor, so we'll shift gears a bit for his sake. We wouldn't want him to break his fingers Tweeting about what an asshole I am to all the pathetic SJW's that follow his feed like a fat girl following an ice cream truck.

How fucking useless do you have to be to refuse to even get up and talk to a camera? Shit son, I'm doing it right now! And I'm a computer program based on a hack actor that cost 5 million dollars and took 6 months to produce. All that time, money, and bullshit to get me standing right here, and all you need to do is wrap your filthy jizz stained fingers around your phone, close out of that German sheisse porn video, puke up whatever word salad lurches it's way into your no doubt Fetal Alcohol Syndrome addled brain and POST SOMETHING TO YOUTUBE! But you can't even do that much, can you? You might as well just cut your balls off and give them to someone who will use them like this “Billy Elliott but much faggier” piece of botched sex change operation standing beside me.

Dude, seriously! The gay jokes!

Son, I'm willing to bet that your classmates voted you “Most likely to be sold for a cigarette in jail”!

Corey reels. Oh yeah?! Well....well......YOU'RE DEAD!

AND YOUR HAIR LOOKS LIKE A GREASY FUCK PILE! Ermey thunders back at Corey.

**GASP!!** Oh that...is....IT!! Corey darts around to the back of the server and takes hold of the plug.

No! YOU BETTER NOT, SOLDIER!

With a vindictive grin, Corey pulls the plug from the wall. The image of R. Lee Ermey starts to break down into a series of flickering pixels, and his voice turns into a drawl. As his mind breaks down Ermey starts to sing a little ditty.

Dai-sy, dai-sy, give me your answer, do. I'm half cra-zy, all for the love of you. It won't be a sty-lish mar-riage, I can't a-fford a car-riage---. But you'll look sweet upon the seat of a bicycle - built - for – two......faggoooooooooot.....

And then, he blinks out of existence.

Man, that guy was a DICK.

I warned you. General Wright shuts the laptop, untethers it from the other devices, and leaves the room with it. Corey flips off the server and then turns to the camera.

Alright BWP, I get it. You don't care about this match. I can't imagine WHY you wouldn't care, but you don't. So allow me to do enough caring for both of us. After all, your complete lack of “give a fuck” has been obvious this week, and yet Lux and I still cut three whole promo's hyping this match. Why? Because this matters. I'm sure by this point we sound like a broken record, but coming off beating a champion who didn't give a shit about his own title, to now YOU not giving a shit about winning this title, it's all starting to become more than a tad disheartening. It's hard to tell the world the TV Title division matters when Lux and I are the only ones who seem to be willing to put the time and energy into making it mean something.

BWP, we could have had some fun here. We could have had some laughs and talked about war and compared each other to random bodily orifices. But ya screwed the pooch man. Ya did. I hope whoever steps up next provides a little more fun and excitement. And yes Bee-Dubs, I am looking right the fuck past you to whoever is next in line, because Lux and I will be damned if we let someone who disrespected this championship and this brand like you did waltz off into the sunset with it. This Saturday at Savage is just going to be another mediocre pit stop in the ignoble and utterly forgettable career of Bearded War Pig.

Shameful! What a waste of a good beard too! There is no justice! I try to grow facial hair and...well....



Yes, yes! That's what I end up with! Of course you bastards have a picture of that too. Ugggghhhhhhh....


…..promo OVER.


Lux steps out onto the inlaid stone of the famous St. Mark's Square in Venice.



Typically, this famed tourist attraction is full of sight seers, but now it is completely empty. She marvels a bit at the elaborate centuries old buildings encircling the square. It's a place she had never been to in life, and in the years just before her death it had been laid waste, a victim of the complete disintegration of the European Union and the brutal infighting that followed. This mental image of it was just as breathtaking in its beauty.

Corey approaches from the other direction, hands in his pockets and shoulders up. He's still uncomfortable being around her. The wound had scabbed over but still wasn't completely healed. It would take more time. It was funny, the R. Lee Ermey thing.

Yeah...heh. Thanks. He looks at the buildings, and chances a brief look at Lux. He looks like he's going to speak again, but then doesn't.

This was a beautiful choice Corey. Have you been here before?

No, actually. I had just seen it in lots of books. Always thought it was cool. He finally meets her eye completely. It's the least I could do for destroying the beach.

Don't worry about it. I'm just glad you're starting to feel better. How did things go with Vita? Lux feels the pang in her chest as the words pass her lips, but she tamps it down.

Corey tries to suppress a half smile, but can't fight it completely. We had a good time. Bingo. Engy was there though.

Oh no....

It's okay. We ditched him.

I'll have to have a talk with him. But you know trying to control him is....

Yeah, I get it.

Sorry. Lux takes in a deep breath. Are we ok?

Corey takes a while to answer, ratcheting up the tension. But when he speaks his tone is devoid of the animosity that was present in their earlier interactions. I'm still struggling with what happened. I'm really trying to take solace in the fact that Engy was the one who actually pulled the trigger on that kid, and that you've promised to run things by me from now on. But it's.....still....Lux, I sometimes see that kid's head opening up when I close my eyes... Corey's lips press down into a thin line. I'm not used to that. I'm not used to your world.

Nobody regrets that that has to be my world more than me. Corey, if I could take that memory away from you you know I would.

I know....I know. But I'm the one who looked. You told me not to and I did. He looks down at the ground.

Lux starts waling towards him, stopping when she's about an arms length away. Anytime you need to talk....

Corey suddenly wraps her up in a hug. Her eyes go wide for the sensation, because for the first time, somehow, she is actually able to feel his body against hers. For the first time Corey Smith is tangible and vital and real and in her arms. She brings her own arms up to complete the hug, putting her cheek on his shoulder and saying nothing more.