Previously on STAR TREK: THE BASTARD GENERATION Said:





Holy mother fucking shit! It's a fucking XENOMORPH!

Set phasers-

TO FUCK THEM UP!

EXACTLY!


The xenomorph enters the room hot and heavy and rips apart one of the red shirts with its right hand, another with its extended tongue mouth, the third was stabbed in the heart with the xenomorph's tail. In a panic, the red shirt standing next to the navigational equipment accidentally sends the Klingon battleship into warp-drive straight for Achilles 2.4, better known as Xenomorph Prime.

Once the warp drive is activated it makes the alien stumble. As opposed to Them No Good Bastards they remain composed and take aim with their phasers set to kill.


Fuck this mother fucker!


On that mark, Commander Bourbon and Commander Knuckles unload their phasers into the Xenomorph lifeform, catching it in the chest with every shot except one. Bobby places one shot into the middle of its skull. Its lifeless body hits the floor as its blood slowly melts the floor.


Thunder Knuckles remember that their acid blood doesn't melt their skin.

Gotcha Bobby.


Commanders Knuckles and Bourbon walk over to the only remaining red shit. He has hidden under the Klingon Battleship pilot's control station.


Look at this little bitch, Bobby.

Get up, son. That's no place for a member of Starfleet.


Bobby Bourbon extends his hand to the red shirt to help him up.


I'm sorry, Commander Bourbon. I... I wasn't sure what to do.-


Before the red shirt could finish his sentence they come out of warp speed, right outside of Xenomorph Prime. Thunder Knuckles and Bobby Bourbon both see the planet now.


Well, this isn't good.

Fuck no, it isn't.

Okay, red shirt. Wait... Did I ever get your name kid?

No, Commander Bourbon, you didn't it's-


Thunder Knuckles cuts the red shirt off.


Oh, fuck this, now is not the fucking time. Stop this ship! We keep getting closer to the goddamn planet.

I can read Klingon... I don't know how to pilot a ship. That's not what I went to Starfleet Acadamy for!


Thunder Knuckles looks over at Bobby Bourbon.


So, the one guy we got left is fucking useless.


Bobby Bourbon shrugs, but just different enough not to hear from Warsteins lawyers.


Thunder Knuckles weren't you a pilot before becoming an officer?

Fucking right I was but I can't read Klingon.

Maybe, yeah, we can have him relay what things say and you coast us out of here, yeah?

We can try that.


The red shit begins to tell Thunder Knuckles what buttons and levers do what. Unfortunately in the red shirt's panic, he tells Thunder Knuckles the wrong information about thrusters. Thunder Knuckles pulls back on the lever he assumes well sent the ship into reverse momentum but instead slams the thrusters to full tilt.


Wrong way, wrong way. FUCK!


At that moment Thunder Knuckles can't keep control of the battleship. He looks over at Bobby Bourbon and raises his eyebrows, as if to say, "hold on mother fucker". The ship gets caught into the gravitational pull of the planet. As the Klingon B-10 battleship enters the atmosphere an astonishing red glow and is seen in front of them.


This isn't good.

Fuck no it isn't.


Thunder Knuckles backhands the red shirt.


Look what you made me do, you fucking moron. I thought you could read -


As Thunder Knuckles is talking everyone braces for impact. The B-10 Klingon battleship roughly crashlands on the planet's surface, as it skids to a halt, next to a giant hole. The camera is back in the cockpit but things are hanging from the ceiling. Both Commanders Bourbon and Knuckles look rough and the red shirt cries out.


Help!


Commander Bourbon was the first to respond and yells out.


Thunder Knuckles come over here and help me get...


Bobby mudders under his breath.


Sorry, buddy.


Bobby gets louder again.


The red shirt from under this rubble!


Thunder Knuckles acting disoriented comes over and helps Bourbon take the rubble off of the red shirt.


This is fucking twice Commander Bourbon has gotten your ass off the floor.

Quite... Do you hear that?


The scamping of Xenomorphs crawling all over the outside of the Klington B-10 battleship can be heard.

What do we do?

SHH, mother fucker! Didn't fucking Commander Bourbon say be quiet?

I've got an idea let's make some armor out of that Xenomorphs body.

Great fucking idea!


The three make one suit of armor.


So, who gets it?


Them No Good Bastards look at the red shirt.


You, mother fucker.

The plan is, you go open a hatch and let a few more in. That way we can kill them and make some armor of our own. Once that happens we kill them all.


How many should I let in?


Thunder Knuckles looks at Bobby Bourbon and then pokes his belly.


Five.

Fuck you. You're not exactly slim, are ya?


Thunder Knuckles shrugs, not leaving room for a lawsuit from camp Legacy. Bobby picks up the dead Xenomorph's tail and with the plan set, the three men put it into motion. The red shirt is ready to open the hatch. Commanders Bourbon and Knuckles stand at the ready. The hatch opens and a Xenomorph rushes in. Bobby takes the tail, like a whip, and snags it by the throat. Once completely wrapped around the throat Bobby gives a mighty tug popping off the first xenomorph's head with ease. As second charges in Bobby uses its forward momentum, and his own manly strength, to lift it vertically as Thunder Knuckles jumps off some Klingon space crates to deliver the...


RAINBOW LASER DEATH SEQUENCE!


Thus making the second Xenomorphs head explode. Thunder Kncukels rips off one of the two newly deceased Xenomorphs. He pays close attention not to get acid on himself. Bobby rips off the other dead Xenomorph's hand and throws it perfectly landing four of its large nails into the fifth Xenomorph's skull, dropping it instantly. As the redshirt closes the hatch, Thunder Knuckles whips the third torso in half leaving it to crawl closer, until finally, whipping its head off. The fourth is so scared it tries to run away, or get more help, as it turns away to run Bobby grabs it by the tail and begins to bang it off the walls of the ship until it succumbs to the battering.

Holy shit!


Commanders Knuckles and Bourbon give each other a high-five.


Fucking teamwork, bro.

Couldn't do it without my partner.

That was awesome!


Bobby Bourbon is quick to scold the red shirt because he wasn't much help in the fight.


Quit wasting time! We have to make this damn armor quickly. The walls aren't going to protect us forever.


The screeching of Xenomorphs outside is starting to become more audible. The Xenomorphs outside have started raming the Klingon Battleship killing themselves but making the metal melt, trying to force a breach. The red shirt is getting more nervous now, but he's holding it together, knowing he's made it this far under the guidance of the dual Commanders. They begin to fashion two more sets of Xenomorph armor.


Yo, shout to the fucking Klingons though.

What?

Think about it, this ship has fucking held up pretty goddamn good. They built some quilty shit. That's all I'm saying.

Just imagine what Picard would be saying if he knew that we were making clothing. Considering what he was getting ready for when we left.

Good throwback, Commander Bourbon, but we don't look nearly as fucking ridiculous. Way more fucking badass.


Once they make armor from the fallen Xenomorphs they have one whole Xenomorph that wasn't used.


See! I told you we didn't need that many!

What?! Can't be overcautious, can we?

I suppose you're right. Here's the plan. Walk out of here and fight towards the hole. Have the red shirt figure out how deep it is and head back here. Hopefully, we make it and find something out. There are A LOT of those things out there.


Commander Knuckles nods in approval as the red shirt has a bad feeling about what about to happen. Commander Bourbon grabs up the unused Xenomorph body with one hand, as the redshirt opens the hatch. Bobby tosses the body out the hatch and out walks Them No Good Bastards. As they exit a couple of Xenomorphs meet their quick demise. as they start flooding in on Commanders Bourbon and Knuckles the red shirt makes a run for the whole to collect data. a few steps in a Xenomorph tries to use its extending tongue thing to snag the red shirt, but Thunder Knuckles uses the tail whip and slices it off. The farther they get away from the ship the more nervous the red shirt becomes. Commander Bourbon and Knuckles have got things under control here battling the extraterrestrial lifeforms. There is no quit in Them No Good Bastards. Once at the hole the red shirt begins calculating how deep the hole is while Commanders Bourbon and Knuckles fend off the Xenomorphs since they are so close to the hole they begin tossing them in. Hoping, praying, that the hole is deep enough that as they land it kills the Xenomorphs on contact. Suddenly the red shirt yells out.


I've got the data we need! We can go back to the ship now!


Commander Knuckles and Bourbon are both fighting Xenomorphs left and right begin to push back toward the Klingon b-10 battleship. The waves are slowing they've killed nearly half the living Xenomorphs on the planet. Wow! Them No Good bastards are tough. Once they fight back to the ship the red shirt opens the hatch and Commanders Bourbon enter first with Commander Knuckles enter close behind not a single Xenomorph makes it in.


That was truly amazing Commanders. I'm honored to have served in Starfleet with you, man!

All in a day's work.

Fucking cakewalk.

What did you find out... Damn it! What's your name? Now.


Thunder Knuckle begins to talk but Bobby holds up his hand to stop him.


Stephen.


Commander Bourbon genuinely smiles at Stephen.


Glad to meet you, Stephen. Now, what did you find out?

It turns out this hole leads straight to this planet's core.

Well, that's fucking convenient. Well, what's the plan Commander Bourbon? You haven't lead us astray yet.


Commander Bourbon takes a seat and begins to think.


Too bad we don't have a fucking bomb to drop down in the fucking hole and crack this planet like a fucking walnut.


Thunder Knuckles looks into the camera and winks.


We do have a bomb!


Commander Bourbon exclaims as he springs back to his feet.


Why the fuck didn't you tell me this to start with? But... Wait... Why'd you bring a Starfleet bomb with you on an empty Klingon battleship?


Thunder Knuckles tries to recall Commander Bourbon ever carrying explosives on him in the past, can't think of a single time.


The Klingon B-10 battleship, ITSELF, is the bomb, Commander Knuckles.

Then how do we get home?

I haven't thought that far ahead. But it might be what's best for humanity.


Soon after Commander Bourbon made his statement the Klingon battleship has enough juice left in it to give an incoming ship alert, but no one in Starfleet has ever heard this noise before.


That fuck is that?


The red shirt walks over to the panel to read.


The ship has detected another ship in the aren't just north of us! Commander Bourbon walks to the front of the cockpit and looks out and notices what's left of the Xenomorphs are headed that way.


Fuck it, Commander Knuckles, are you ready?


Thunder Knuckles stand back up with Xenomorph tail whip in hand.


Against punk-ass bitches like this? Who the fuck wouldn't be?


The three men exit the Klingon B-10 battleship for the final time. As they battle their way north they kill even more xenomorphs and the herds are getting quite small. It seems as though they've cleared this planet of its Xenomorph population. When they finally get to their destination a ship is hover above. No Xenomorphs in sight anymore. The hovering ship doesn't stay hovering for long, as it lands just in front of Them No Good Bastards with the red shirt between the two. a back hatch opens and out walks...
































As the Predator exists its ship, its cybernetic suit detects a single xenomorph, the cybernetic suit locks the target and blows its head off.


OH, MAN!


Poor Stephen spoke when it was time for quietness the Predator's suit locks onto him and blows his head off with its pulse cannon. spraying Stephen's blood all over both Commander Bourbon and Thunder Knuckles. Them No Good bastards get into their fighting positions and the scene fades to black.


Join us next time on, STAR TREK: THE BASTARD GENERATION!

**PREACH**

XWF cameras catch Them No Good Bastards on the set of STAR TREK: THE BASTARD GENERATION. They are filming in the desert for the upcoming episode on Xenomorph Prime. Thunder Knuckles sees the cameraman and waves him over to get this promo out of the way.


Over here, mother fucker, we don't get all day! Alright, are you filming?


The cameraman extends his hand out and gives Thunder Knuckles the thumbs up.


Mastermind was sitting in his fucking chair back in October pondering how to revive his career, and his fucking brain realized it wasn't going to happen, a fucking vessel in his goddamn brain burst, and here we fucking are, Bobby! Fighting a relic of a man and fucking cripple. Goddamn, man. Playing the fucking sympathy card like he and fucking Morbid didn't attack us with goddamn chairs. whimpering his famous last words. Get the fuck outta here! When MorbidMind fails and Them No Good Bastards leave MasterMind bleeding from every hole in his goddamn head don't act like we didn't fucking warn you.

In all fucking honesty, Bobby. Vinnie should stop this damn match before it even starts...

Yeah, man, it's just not safe for Mastermind to compete at the highest level, know what I mean. Not that Bobby Bourbon or my-fucking-self give a fuck if a man dies in the ring, but Ol' Thunder Knuckles is sure as shit that Vinnie's fucking insurance company will! If I took out a top guy like fucking Walnut Brain what's this lower mid-carder?


We don't give a fuck that MasterMind's brain is leaking and we're, sure as fuck, not going to care if he is pulled out on a fucking stretcher. Hell, even before the fucking brain surgery MasterMind wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. More like a hammer.

No, that's the other guy from The Misfits.

Right, Speechless Von Prick Hammer, how could I forget? Same fucking context though. Except this ass-hat thinks he's smart.


Thunder Knuckles gives his patented jerking-off motion.


What happens to MasterMind on Wednesday night is on Vinnie, Theo, and Smoking fucking Bob, not Them No Good Bastards.

This brings us to fucking Morbid Angel. Can you believe this big, dirty, tough, thinks he's going to steamroll us by himself, Bobby? Now that's confidence! Too bad he's like a spookier version of Centurion. Fucking Jimmy made me watch his fucking promo and fuck me. Was it not the most boring piece of fucking procrastinating shit you've ever seen. Water for fireworks. BITCH!


Thunder Knuckles raises his hand and lowers it signaling to Todd. Todd has a whole crew ready at a moment's notice to flip a switch. Once Thunder Knuckles gives Todd the signal, the pyro crew sets a million dollars worth of fireworks, all at once.


That's nothing, fucking water, give me a goddamn break. Maybe you two fucking idiots should be filming your fucking promos together. Then Morbid doesn't have to worry about his partner showing up. You know, instead of fucking washing your car like a fucking early nineties stepdad. Looking like a sweaty second-rate Rob Zombie.

Thunder Knuckles looks back over at Bobby.


He's got a nice house though.


Thunder Knuckles looks back at the camera.


Meanwhile, everyone has been telling Ol' Thunder Knuckles to watch out for you Morbid.

Fucking honestly though, if that's all you got, there is no way your stepping up to the tag champs. You're about as interesting as being stuck in fucking traffic. By the way, you missed a spot on your SUV, buddy.

Bobby looks at TK and shakes his head 'no'. Thunder Knuckles give Bobby Bourbon the floor.

Morbid, well, we go back, bro.

I call him Kyril.

Kyril, listen, it's me, Bourbon.

We were brothers before in the Black Hand. I know you mentioned my joining an organization that does horrible things, but flat out, B.O.B. does great things. Just watch any televised XWF programming and you'll see us. Now, I don't get why you decided to present your life history in your last RP, I guess it's been a while since you've been relevant or something, but it's weird that you didn't establish all of that leading up to Snow Job. Even stranger is how leading up to Snow Job, you were presented as this convert to Christianity and now we're hearing it's all a hustle. Either way, it doesn't make a huge amount of difference to me.

Come home, Kyril.

You don't need to associate yourself with Mastermind, not at all. It's sweet of you to bootstrap the guy after years of neglecting his own health led to some horrific brain injury, but can you really put it upon yourself to pull a guy who's a shell of his former self, and his former self had to be pulled too, just because he jeopardized himself with his own decisions?

Mastermind is so dumb he called me and TK unoriginal.

He called us uninspired.

He claimed we were drunk and incoherently rambling through our promos.

Then he bought our t-shirt.

Like, we get it, Mastermind, you're severely brain damaged, there's no reason to exploit it. Well, there's no reason for you to exploit it.

Sure, Mastermind, you sound like you've been eating paint chips and dirt, maybe so you can get ringworm and claim you should be pitied for that.

I don't pity you whatsoever.

I'ma beat your ass.

TK is gonna beat your ass.

And I know damn well it was the brain damage that led you to say we should have taken another three-way shot for the Tag Team Titles, especially since it was the fact it was a three-way shot for the titles last time we were involved and got boned over because one of the targets on the other team was soft enough to get pinned. Imagine, we go to March Madness for another three-way, and this time instead of Marf, Mastermind eats a pin, and Us No Good Bastards get screwed out of a title opportunity. Again.

Flat out, we're not leaving our fate up to you. We're taking it into our hands, and we're doing that by putting hands on you and a brother.

Now, I know there's a lot of logic and reasoning in all that, which might be tough to grasp, but if you don't get something that's pretty obvious to the rest of the world, that's on you. I'm not surprised you fell asleep during one of our promos. You probably fall asleep on the toilet, at the store, and in restaurants.

Now, we generally don't go for abusing the mentally handicapped, but we beat up Big D, so there's a precedent of us doing that in XWF rings. What do you think the "D" stands for?

It's dementia.

Now, it's true, because of your injury you have forgotten more about wrestling than some have ever known, and from what I can tell that includes how to cut a promo without sounding like you're brain damaged. We're here, set to go warp speed and boldly go where no tag team has gone before, you're there, rubbing two sticks together thinking it's how you get cheese.


Thunder Knuckles waves the cameraman off and without hesitation, the camera shuts off the camera.