Them No Good Bastards have the staff, they have the club, and they’ve brought the hype.

Only thing left is the grand opening of Club B.O.B.

**WET OR OILY ROADS**

The doors to the, now named, Club B.O.B. are open wide as the music is bumping from inside. At the door, working as the bouncers, are none other than Big Puddin’ Herschel Kiss and the Muscle Midget. Bobby is standing beside both men, wearing a slick black bowling shirt and jeans, and TK is in a jet black crushed velvet tracksuit with crimson trim.

Guys, I thought you were going to do the Master Blaster thing.

Bobby, that sounds kinda rough.

Balderdash. Puddin’, Em Em, let’s see it.

The Muscle Midget looks up at Big Puddin’, and Big Puddin’ looks back down at him. With a little maneuvering, one man is now sitting on the other’s shoulders. Living up to his namesake, the Muscle Midget stands firmly with the massive Big Puddin’ on his shoulders.

Fantastic!

I, uh, shouldn’t it be the other way around?

Nonsense, it’s 2021.

TK shrugs like Shawn Warstein, conceding the point to Bobby, as if there were some points made. TK leans in close to Bobby as the line to get into Club B.O.B. stretches well around the corner of the building.

Are you fucking high right now, Bobby?

Nah, I cut that shit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We see Bobby sitting at a table with a heaping pile of cocaine sitting in front of him. His eyes are glassy and bloodshot, his pupils dilated. He looks around nervously. Beside him, Sophie, not the first one but the second one he hired, looks spaced out as well. Barney approaches them both.

Bobby, you don’t look so good.

I’m great.

Bobby says this with all the enthusiasm of someone in a coma.

You don’t look great. You look like shit. How are you supposed to defend the Tag Team Championships in that state?

With violence.

You look gone.

Well, I appreciate your concern.

Barney points at the mountain of blow.

Are you going to do all of this?

My face is numb.

How many lines have you done?

I’m Bobby Bourbon, I’m known for my lines.

Bobby smiles and winks at Barney. Barney shakes his head.

Well, I’m going to go upstairs and enjoy the greatest hot dog buffet ever. Do you want to come.

Bobby shakes his head, looking a little despondent.

I’m not that hungry.

Barney looks absolutely stunned. Sophie looks over at Bobby.

You’re not going to eat a hot dog?

Bobby looks devastated, and ashamed.

What has my life become?

Bobby gets up from the table and walks away. He comes back with a fire extinguisher and blasts the pile of cocaine. Sophie looks startled by this action as Barney looks on quizzically, but intrigued.

Fuck that shit.

Really?

We could have sold that! That was like fifty thousand dollars worth of drugs!

That shit is poison! I’m tired of letting it control my life! Damn it, I built the best hot dog buffet on the planet and now I don’t even want a hot dog! This shit is poison!

Ozzy’s going to be pissed.

Ozzy won’t care, we’ll just tell him a moose from Alpha Centauri showed up and ate the cocaine.

Really?

Sophie looks incredulous.

Shit, with all the crazy shit that happens around here, it’s plausible. How many members of the XWF have seemingly died from being set on fire and now just walk around like nothing happened?

Enough that a moose from Alpha Centauri is tame by comparison.

Exactly, and everybody knows that you can’t tame a moose!

But, what are you going to indulge in off of my bosom now that you aren’t doing cocaine?

Bobby pulls a bottle of chocolate syrup out of his pocket, because why wouldn’t he be carrying a bottle of chocolate syrup? He smirks at Sophie, who grins back, nodding eagerly.

That’s more like it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TK looks very relieved by hearing all of this.

Thank fucking god, I was wondering why the floor got all sticky before we even opened.

Bobby takes a deep breath and smiles.

Yep, nothing but clean living for me anymore. Just ganja, stuff with high fructose corn syrup, whatever chemicals go into Mountain Dew, the shit in the middle of an Oreo, you know, healthy stuff.

Muscle Midget looks really unhappy with Big Puddin’s taint chafing the back of his neck.

You got it big man?

Muscle Midget gives a thumbs up as Big Puddin’ looks concerned.

Can I have a corn dog?

You just had a dozen.

But I’m still hungry.

Not until you’re on break.

Yeah, the hot dogs are for the customers.

And me.

And Bobby.

As they continue to speak, a stretch limo pulls up in front of the club. The driver steps out and walks around to the side, opening the door. People gasp, ooh, and ah as they see none other than Ryan Reynolds and Eminem step out together! They pose for a few pics together, and walk up to the door. Bobby folds his arms across his chest as TK steps forward.

You weren’t invited.

Nope. Back of the line.

Devastated by the rejection, both Reynolds and Eminem’s shoulders slump as they walk around to the back of the line.

Fucking B-Listers.

Pretty much. I made sure the real celebrities made it. Dave Chappelle is inside, he’s a DC native, gotta give some credit to the hometown guy. Ozzy is here too.

Shit, is he asking about his money?

No, heh, Ozzy Osbourne. He brought his wife. Cute couple.

Oh, okay.

Jon Hamm, Snoop Dogg, and our boy Elon Musk are all at the same VIP table. They can’t wait for the feature dancer tonight.

Fuck yeah! What about the guys from the XWF?

Well, Dock said thanks but no thanks. Alias, Corey, and Thad all declined, said they weren’t interested.

Figures.

Lane, well, he doesn’t want to be associated with any kind of strip club at the moment, what with the fiasco. Theo was too busy, had to find new ways to fuck Chris Chaos over or something. Derrick Diamond was busy too. The boys from Apex didn’t want to come, I guess they’re busy oiling their leather vests and talking about friendship or some shit. Ariel Dixon isn’t allowed, she sucks.

Yeah she fucking does.

So, that leaves us with our opening night. Let’s go check out the interior!

Them No Good Bastards fist bump, turning their heads away from each other beforehand to ensure it was a no look fist bump, then walk into the club together. The place is packed. Waitresses walk around serving drinks, at some tables in the VIP section we see bottle service going on. The bar is crowded, and behind the bar we see Vhodka Marie setting a trio of shots on fire.

Fuck, that was badass!

Yeah, she’s putting on her show behind the bar.

Sodom and Gomorrah ain’t got shit on Club B.O.B., this place is biblical!

Fuck yeah.

With that, we see Jesus Christ walking through the crowd and approaching Bobby and TK.

Hey, look who made it!

How could I not?

Jesus is coming!

With this line up, probably twice!

Jesus Christ, the main foundation of Christianity, gives TK a high five.

Go see one of the girls, maybe go into the Champagne room.

Maybe, give them a little taste of my body.

Jesus turns around. He walks over to the stage where the action is hot and heavy, pulls out a wad of singles, and makes it rain all over the girls.

YEAH! WHO WANTS TO GO IN THE BACK AND HAVE A LITTLE COMMUNION?!

The people in the club all roar in approval as Jesus gets freaky up in the strip club. Two of the dancers approach him and pull him on stage. Jesus lies on the floor of the stage as the two young vixens start to bump and grind all over his chiseled swimmer bod. Ryan Renolds and Marshall Mathers finally make it into the club and they are at the center stage rail with wads of ones. Bobby and TK give each other another no look fist bump knowing they have the hottest ticket in town about to come on stage. As soon as the fist bump is complete the lights go out. Pink strobe lights start flickering. Jesus and the young vixens exit the stage. Fog rolls in. DJ Barney Green’s voice can be heard over the speakers.

Gentleman. We have our MAIN EVENT of the evening.



The pink strobe lights stop flickering. The backlight of the dancer's entrance turns pink. The outline of the perfect woman appears. Her back against the wall like it always feels for her. One leg extends toward the other wall, her heel catches the other wall at 140-degree angle. She uses her hands and seductively runs them down her leg that is resting on the wall until she slides them to her waist. She spins and walks out of the doorway, revealing none other than Atara Themis. As the music plays she walks towards the pole at a quick pace, grabs the pole with one hand, then twists her body up the pole, catching it with the inside of her knee. Both her hands are extended outward with her hair letting gravity take hold as she is upside down. Atara slowly spins down the pole upside down. One leg extended all the way out the opposite direction. The men in the front row are throwing a truckload of money onto the dance floor. Marshall’s jaw is on the floor just spending every dollar he has to get Atara’s attention. Ryan Reynolds calmly sits there not dropping one dollar. Atara sees this and stares right at Ryan Reynolds not paying Mathers any attention at all.







TK and Bobby across the bar see this and begin laughing. TK’s laughter doesn't last long as he drinks a beer, watching the show, himself.

[/color]

Atara is still dead locked on Ryan Reynolds. She takes off her black bikini top walking towards Ronalds and Mather who are standing side by side. Marshall is going broke, spending dollar, after dollar, after dollar begging for Atara’s attention.







Atara starts to come close to Reynolds. She leans in face first towards him, then downward dogs so that her bare breasts are in Ryan’s face. Reynolds caves and launches more money into the air than Marshall Mathers has the whole night. Atara continues to dance, pulling in more money than all the other dancers combined. The camera pans back to TK and Bobby.

Bobby…

Yeah, TK.

I think…

Shut the fuck up.

Nah, I might have just fell in fucking love.

Bobby blushes for TK. Bobby nudges TK and both men walk outside. As they do, Marshall Mathers, dejected, walks over to the redhead and tries to garner her attention. TK notices this and points it out to Bobby.

Isn’t she a lesbian?

I dunno, I wasn’t trying to bang any of the girls.

What about that one chick?

Eh, I didn’t try…

Bobby coyly rolls his eyes.

You didn’t do anything with her, did you?

Nah, I have a reputation to uphold, I’m a fighter, not a lover.

You gotta stop and smell the fucking roses man!

Eh, I prefer the thorns.

Bobby and TK step out of the club into the warm air of the rural Texas landscape. Both men exchange a no look fistbump. As they do, a green sedan screeches to a halt in front of them. A young lady steps out of the car.

Oh my god! It’s you, the No Good Bastards! Please, I need your help! These guys are being assholes!

What the fuck does that got to do with us?

Bobby looks determined.

What guys?

Please, I need the both of you, you’re the Wizard of Wit!

The young lady points at Bobby.

And you’re the Capitalist Commandant!

The young lady points at TK. Bobby and TK look at each other.

That’s a cool nickname!

They’re both cool, goddamn it!

What do you mean? In the year 2031 everybody knows those names!

Oh, you’re from the future, I get it.

Fucking figures.

TK rolls his eyes, recalling the last time this happened, giving his signature jerking off motion. As he does, a flash of light illuminates the darkness, and a pair of figures clad in black with neon trim appear. A futuristic looking man and his bearded futuristic looking friend point at TNGB.

Ah, you will not stop us. Bourbon, we have utilized your technology to travel to the present!

The bearded guy just glares at both Bobby and TK.

Just give us the girl, and we’ll be on our way.

Nope.

What? We don’t know this…

TK stops short. He knows from the posture that Bobby has taken this will only end one way. He sighs.

Look, future fuckers, just go back to whatever goofy alternate dystopian future, leave the lady be, and we won’t break a sweat with you.

The futuristic men, from out of time, laugh.

Your legend is a sham. There’s no way you’re as great as the stories have told. We’re trained for this, and we will take the girl.

The young lady looks rightly terrified. Bobby slowly walks and stands in front of her.

Looks like there’s a problem in your way.

The bearded guy walks towards Bobby, extending a baton as he does. Without hesitation, TK rushes in and delivers a huge knee to the bearded guy’s gut, doubling him over. Bobby hoists him up for a Bobbybomb, and TK catches the bearded guy who gets powerbombed into a backbreaker. The loud snap breaks the air as the guy hits the dirt. The other futuristic guy charges in, but Bobby catches him, lifting him vertically, the pathos of what comes next as TK catches his ankle has been coming all along.

RAINBOW LASER DEATH SEQUENCE!

The other futuristic guy is left in a heap on the ground. Muscle Midget carries Big Puddin’ over.

Take these guys to one of the lock-ups. Tell Fury we have some subjects incoming.

Fuck yeah, you stupid mother fuckers!

Bobby turns to the young lady.

Are you okay?

The young lady looks back up at Bobby, still visibly shaken.

C’mon Bobby, we should go the fuck back inside.

Bobby nods for the lady to follow. The future is far from bright for Them No Good Bastards, but whatever may come, the future better be ready for them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We see Bobby and TK standing in the lounge near the massive hot dog buffet. Big Puddin’ seems to be helping himself liberally to whatever he can grab. The young lady that arrived in the green sedan is seated at a table, watching Them No Good Bastards in awe. Barney Green is at a table surrounded by strippers, all trying to grab his hot dog. Literally, don’t be filthy.

XWF Universe…

Bobby holds for a moment.

All the fucking universe, from here to there, we are Them No Good Bastards. It comes down to what goes down at Warfare, where we will defend our rightly earned Tag Team Championships yet again. Another night spent in the trenches, getting down and getting dirty, this time against the Disintegrators, next time who knows. And who the fuck cares. We know we’re marked men, we know that all comers are watching, waiting for us to slip up, looking for some weakness, praying to Yaweh, praying to Jehova, praying to Allah that we can somehow falter, that we can somehow lose traction, that we can somehow stop being the best fucking tag team now or any time. Their hopes, their prayers, their desires are falling upon deaf ears. This Wednesday, the Disintegrators learn. They earn an education on what happens when you step to us for these belts, for the gold bolted to leather we carry, the burden we shoulder, the baddest duo around. There’s a reason we hold these titles. There’s a reason we leave teams crumpled up and cast aside. We aren’t squaring up to deal with fodder, no. We’re seeing every pair of try-hards to ever lace up the boots show up and think they can be the ones who carry the fucking torch and lead the way in tag team wrestling. Mister Knuckles, let us give pause…

Bobby bows his head while TK looks dead at the camera.

Preach. Please, for the nay-sayers, for the non-believers, for those looking to be forsaken in our ring, executed and destroyed, blood spilled and bone broken. Give the people the low down.

You'll find out on Warfare.

The scene fades to black like it always does.