Charlie and Jim walk into the Gentlefin’s club, their eyes drawn to the stripper poles along the backwall. Some scantily clad humanoid dolphins are shaking their….tailfins? Neon lights flicker on and off overhead as electronic music plays over the loudspeakers. A few sharks and whales are sitting in front of the stage watching the strippers work. Jim tugs on the leash connected to Charlie’s collar.

What the fuck, you prick?!

We have company!

Jim points to the upper deck. In a booth we see Greggo nakedly masturbating.

Keep an eye on him. He might be trouble.

Fuck no! I don’t want to watch him tug his chain!

As Jim and Charlie bicker a curvy humanoid dolphin walks up to them wearing nothing but a slutty scarlet sweater. She winks at Jim as she pulls up a chair.



Hey big man, why don’t we go to the backroom?

The whistleblower winks suggestively.

Fine, but last time I went to the sex room they wouldn’t let me put it in the blowhole and that pissed me off.

The whistleblower blinks.

Ummmm....didn’t you want to know about…

The whistleblower leans in closer to Charlie and Jim, speaking in a soft tone.

The warhead?

Oh, yes! What else would I be here for? Ok Charlie, you stay here and keep your eye on Greggo. And don’t go too far. That collar is set to shock you with 1,000 bolts if you wander off! Ok, see you soon!

Charlie looks set to argue but it’s too late, the stripper and Jim walk off into a backroom. Charlie sighs before turning back to look at the booth. Greggo isn’t there.

Fuck.

Greggo walks up behind Charlie, fully nude with a half-chub, holding a few pills in his open palm. Greggo looks coked out of his mind, with white powder dripping out of his nose every few seconds as he rubs it over and over again. His lower body is covered in dried shit that has caked to his skin. His upper body seems to be covered in a variety of dolphin juices.

Ayyyy! Didn’t expect to see YOU here!


Don’t you have COVID?

No you stupid bitch! Tha coVID and c. diff is mutating and creating a MIRACULOUS Greggo cure! I let President Trump lick my bloody shits after I beat tha KUNG FLU and he got cured too!

You’re disgusting.

Ohhh come on, CHARLIE! Greggo’s saving tha WURLD. They’re making vaccines with my juices! I've turned a new leaf- I'm a hero now!

Greggo offers his handful of pills to Charlie.

[color=#FF0000]Let’s put the past behind us, bub! Here, take a few of these. You’ll cheer up.

Charlie looks at Greggo with suspicion, but he hasn’t gotten high in hours, so he takes the pills. Charlie’s vision gets blurry and his breathing grows shallow. Greggo grabs Charlie by the hand and brings him into a small dark room. As soon as Charlie enters the room, the smell of piss hits Charlie like a dumptruck.

You’re so STUPID! You’re dummer than a fifth grade Gilly! Who takes drugs their shitcovered rivals offered them?! ONLY DUMB DUMB JOBBERS! SO STUPID! I’M SENDING YOU BACK, BOY! BACK TO WHEN GILLY WAS HEAD OF THE CLASS!

Greggo flips the drugged up Charlie around before kicking him in the gut and hitting him with a DDT. Greggo lands perfectly upon a pre-placed black dildo with a length of fourteen and a half inches. Greggo’s asshole, lubricated with the leftovers from his most recent bloody virus shit, easily takes the dildo all the way up to Greggo’s g-spot. Greggo’s eyes go wide as his prostate is rammed by the big black dildo at the same time that Charlie’s head rams into the piss covered floor.

TELLEEEEEEWWWIIINNNNDDPOOOORTOOOO!




Charlie wakes up in a daze. His head is pounding and his legs are wobbly. An uncontrollable urge overtakes him.

OHHHHHHHHH YEAAAAAH, IT’S FUUUUNNNKKKKKADELLLLLLLLIIIIIIICCC BABY!

I gawts the skills baby, ohhhh yeeeeaaah. I gawts the attitude, I gawts the luuuuuv of the people. I gawt it ALLLLLL, baby. Except for that one precious thing.

A championship belt.

Charlie lifts up his two championship belts out of nowhere.

OHHHHHH shiiiit, baby. What was I smokin’? I’ll never tell, baby. But I’ll tell you one thing:
I’m the ONLY man, the ONLY man, entering that rumble in the dancehall with two belts around my waist already. Call me greedy, call me great, call me a legend, but whatever you do don’t call me your baby’s daddy. We may have been dancing, and grooving allllll niiiight long, baby.

Charlie dances awkwardly while holding the federweight and heavymetalweight championship belts.

But that boy ain’t mine! Brotha C ain’t no family man. I am triple X rated, baby.

Now, you know I am thinking what you think I think I am thinking. As the only double-champion throwin’ down and getting groovy in that rumble, I’m taking that W and I’m going to celebrate alllll niiiiiiight loooong. This Saturday night yo main man, yo brotha’ from anotha’ motha’, the ayatollah of Idon’tgotwhatIoweya’, the khamenei of gettin’ in yo girls bikini, the man the people put upon a steeple, the one and only Brotha C is coming away from that little rumble in the dance hall with a shot at the television championship and pretty soon he’s gonna have thrrrreeeee belts. Ohhhhh yeaaaah. One belt for every four inches of my love baster. And all the girlies, all the ring rats, all your women are coming home with Brotha C to party with a triple belt champion.

Ain’t no one in that ring been blessed with the rhythm I gawt. Ain’t no in that ring been blessed with the stamina of yo manintha bandananana. Can you understanananana what I’m laying down for ya? I'm getting the title shot, JACKS!