Listen up.

Bobby pops Charlie in the mouth.

Charlie Blumpkin. Handling two loads on both ends, probably because it reminds you of your daddy and how his pubes tickled your nose while you caught a whiff of his crap before you swallowed and then both coordinated matching skidmarks. Not that it's a nostalgia trip, the family man you be, this was last week when you went to see the old man for fresh needles and some cash for some Afghan black tar.

To be fair, it was several old men.

But hey, you've been penetrated for pleasure plenty of times and more times on screen Riley Reid, except she does it for the money.

Charlie Blumpkin wants the attention like a good little slut.

Well, here you are.

Bobby backhands Charlie like a straight up pimp.

Let's talk about how special Charlie is.

Charlie is so special he took a silver in the Special Olympics. You know what's better than winning a silver medal in the Special Olympics?

Not being in the Special Olympics.

Charlie is so special he's offered during happy hour. Cheap and only palatable to depressed boomers who still haven't retired.

Definitely not top shelf.

Charlie is so special he's after school, an hour long, followed by a PSA about how you shouldn't do, well, everything that was displayed. Drugs, tricks, self-medicating, whatever really. An actual, bonafide celebrity, like Post Malone, at the tail end saying "Kids, don't be a Charlie". Because a flat-earther who looks like a teddy bear some toddler scribbled on with a marker is a reliable authority compared to Charlie Blumpkin.

Oh, speaking of kids...

Are you going to make them happy again sometime this year or are you waiting? I mean, you could challenge me again, this time for the Hart, and your little boy will have something to talk with you about.

"Gee whiz, daddy, what was it like getting wrecked by Bobby Bourbon twice?"

And your eyes will well up as your pride will swell up, knowing you accomplished something in your life that will leave a legacy, being a fucking punching bag for me.

Heh, too bad your shot isn't 24/7, huh? It's the only way you're beating me.

Robbie throws a SHORYUKEN!!!, putting Charlie on his back.

Aw, lil' slut. On your back for a pounding?

I guess your knees and elbows are too bruised up earning that next fix in whatever alley you slept in last night.

Okay, okay, maybe I'm being mean. I'ma say the most positive thing I can about Charlie.

Are you ready?

Here goes.

I am not related to Charlie.

Charlie tries getting up, but is hit with a stiff boot to the jaw putting him back down.

Charlie stands up, shrugging off the attempted assault as he spits some blood onto the ground.

"You know, you really oughta read the rulebook, that is you haven't already ate it. If you want one of my many, many belts, you're going to have to try and pin me, Jack!"


Charlie flips a pair of middle fingers at Robbie before kicking him in the balls and dropping him on his head with a Devil Hook Drop.

Same here. Stupid technicalities.