Steve Sayors is seated behind a particularly smart looking desk and he's looking game!

Hello everyone, I’m Steve Sayors and welcome to the 2021 War Games Live Draft! Tonight, each of six team captains will select their team members, with the draft order already predetermined by the results of the Survival of the Fittest match on the July 3rd edition of Savage. And on a personal note regarding that match, tattooing Harambe on a shaved ape wearing a shock collar was tasteless AND cruel.

Anyway, Captains, are you ready?!

The shot pans over to six podiums each of which has a captain behind it. Well, mostly.

Absolutely. Says Thad Duke, who is just Corey wearing a dirty blond wig with a stuffed lion sitting atop his podium.

Let’s do it! Corey intones, who is just regular Corey.

…… Says Betsy Granger, who is absent.

Mwahahahaha! Miss Fury (who is Corey wearing a leather gimp mask) cackles.

I’m already wet. From Dick Powers, who is Corey Smith wearing a greasy tangle of a wig and a flashy robe.

WE HAVE NOTHING TO LOSE BUT OUR CHAINS! Demos (Corey with a jock strap on his face) screeches.

Excellent! And thank you all for conveniently answering in your preordained draft order. Up first is Thad Duke, who won the match when Corey eliminated himself.

Always got your back, dude!

Thad chuckles nervously and dabs his forehead with a napkin. Of course, I could have won it myself!

Oh no doubt, no doubt!

He clears his throat. Before I make my first draft pick, I have something to say.

Collective groans from most of the other captains.

I just wanted to say that for as much as Corey’s love and support for me has been appreciated during recent months, I am my own man. And I have a list here of examples illustrating how I am, in fact, my own man. He pulls out a lengthy list from beneath the podium.

Actually, Thad, everyone has 30 seconds to make their choice, and you just used 20.

Shit! Uhhh...ok. Then I pick COREY SMITH.

Corey leans over his podium, looking at Thad incredulously.

Uhhh, dude? I’m a captain.

I need Corey!

You, uhhh, cannot draft Corey.

Fine! I invoke my right to go sixth and pick two people!

That is a valid choice. Alright, Corey you’re next.

Bobby Bourbon.

OH FUCK YOU! Miss Fury hammers a fist on her podium.

Lulz. Suck it, BOB contingent! Corey looks mighty proud of himself.

Well, that makes it Betsy Granger’s turn. But unfortunately, Betsy is nowhere to be….

Just then, the distinctive sound of Excellence can be heard as it materializes behind the podium. After some thumping and banging around from within, the doors open and Betsy Granger (Corey in a long blond wig) stumbles out. Am I too late?! I’m so sorry, I was quelling a Sith uprising on Romulus!

Those are two completely different franchises, but no, you can still pick.

Great! I draft my boo, James Raven!

Steve grimaces. Actually, he is not available. He never signed a contract to compete at War Games.

Betsy looks dismayed. Huh? Well, that doesn’t make any sense! Why would he make such a big show of returning at Leap of Faith with me if he wasn’t going to participate at War Games?

Yuh huh, we all wanna know that.

Your guess is as good as mine. But it does seem pretty stupid. You have five seconds.

Damn! Uhhh, I pass! I gotta go save Holly from the Sleestaks. Be right back! She hops back in Excellence and the ship fades once again.

Yeah, yeah, yeah! It’s MY turn! Miss Fury scowls at Corey. And I draft Chronic Chris Page! Eat shit, Corey you relentlessly effeminate twink!

Drafting Chris Page? A powerful self-own!

Miss Fury starts to retort when Steve cuts in. Okay, okay! I know things can get heated, but we do have a strict schedule to stick to of about 3000 spoken words. Dick Powers?

First off, as directed by my parole officer I do have to declare that I am a registered sex offender and as such, anyone I draft has the right to refuse. He bites his bottom lip seductively. That said, my first choice is….ATARA THEMIS!

Somebody tosses a note to Steve from off camera. He unfolds it and reads it. Actually, I have just gotten word that Atara already declined in advance.

Mmmmm, that’s okay. I like it when they play hard to get, heh heh heh. So I draft Dolly Wat-

Steve gets tossed another note, which he reads. Dolly actually declined even before Atara did.

These girls doin’ Dick dirty. He smiles lasciviously. Papa likessssss....

And your time is mercifully up. Demos?

I draft….CHARLIE NICKLES! He bears an idiot expression on his face like he just pooped in the potty for the first time and mommy's proud.

That’s just you.

You rat faced capitalist pig dog! Demos spews, spittle flying everywhere.

You know what, fine. You want Charlie, you got him.

You bourgeois class traitor! You’re gonna hang for this!

I literally just gave you what you want.

Piece of shit Ayn Rand apologist!

Moving along….back to Thad Duke, who now has two selections.

I draft Corey Smith and Doctor Louis D’Ville.

Steve sighs.

Thad, I’m still a captain.

Thad now has Doc and Corey action figures on top of his podium. He holds them up and presses their faces together. With a hitch in his throat and a tear in his eye, he says, Please kiss.

Thad, it’s over man. It’s over. He prods his friend solemnly.

Thad drops the action figures and shudders sorrowfully. Then I draft….LUX!

Nope! Moving on! Corey, go!

I swear to God you little shitstain if you….

I draft Thunder Knuckles!

God DAMN IT!!

But before anyone else can offer more input, Excellence returns! Betsy comes flying out of it, looking battered and bruised. She practically throws herself at her podium.

Good lord, are you okay?

Betsy takes a deep breath before forcing on a smile. A-OK! Just wasn’t expecting Cylons to form an alliance with the Xenomorphs. Yikes! She wipes some sweat from her forehead. But if I can’t get James, then I draft SEAN WARSTEIN!

Steve proffers up a “hold on a sec” finger, reaches under his desk, pulls out a flask, and takes a looooooong gulp. Sean never signed up for War Games either.

What?! But he made a big entrance at Leap of Faith too! This is stupid!

Literally everyone else in unison: WE KNOW!

Do you have another selection? Steve queries in exasperation.

Uhhhh, hold on, I just got word that Decepticons launched a surprise attack on the Muppet Babies! Be back in a sec! She leaps back into Excellence and is spirited away once again.

Jesus, that woman's whole life is nothing but Ready Player One on roids. Who the hell is next?

I am next Steve, and I draft Andre Dixon before Corey can get his uncalloused babysoft hands on him!

It's not a crime to moisturize.

Fine. Yes. Wonderful. On to Dick…

Miss Fury shrieks in disgust and points at a greasy sheen oozing it's way up her podium.

Oh gross! I think it's coming out of Dick!

Oh it's coming out of Dick alright. He licks his lips and my God you can hear it like a particularly repulsive ASMR clip right in your ear. I ooze a fine layer of slime naturally. I can't help it, it's a recognized disability.

Well get it the fuck away from me!

Alright everyone, calm down and try to ignore Dick’s oozing and oh lord that calls for another one. Steve takes another hearty shot from the flask. Eeaaayeeahhh. Hits the spot.

Before I was rudely interrupted I was about to draft …..REL DIXON! He blows a kiss (with tongue) at the camera.

Steve gets tossed another note. He reads it and smiles. Oh good, Rel actually agreed!

Giggity.

Then, another note gets lobbed onto Steve’s desk. He picks it up, looking irritated, and reads it to the assembly. Actually, I have just been informed that Rel’s court appointed law guardian who is in charge of making adult decisions for her has DECLINED on her behalf.

Dick looks crestfallen. My balls, they are blue.

Before Steve can utter a word, Demos practically tosses himself over his podium in anticipation of his choice. THRAX! I DRAFT THRAX!

That is also, arguably, just you.

No he’s not you limousine liberal assjack, we BOTH appeared at Leap of Faith. Duh!

Duh! Didn’t you also die at Leap of Faith?!

The people’s glorious revolution lives on in my bosom forever!

Dick looks up at the mention of “bosom”, and then, seeing it’s just Demos, recommences sulking.

Demos, you are once again out of time. And I would like to take this moment to declare the majority of you abject failures at this most simple of tasks. Thad?

I draft Doc D’Ville.

Praise sweet baby Jesus.

And for my second choice I draft The Engineer.

Spoke too soon, Steve-o. Look Thad, if I forfeit my captain slot and agree to join your team, would that make you feel better?



Thad, welling up with emotion, manages to sputter out a tear clogged, Y-YES!

Okay. I mean, I’m not doing that. But I’m glad I could have hypothetically made you feel better. Also….ALIAS BITCHES!



GODDAMN! You all seriously slept on the UNIVERSAL CHAMPION! That motherfucker was born of fire! His promos are elaborate riddles steeped in mystery! His hair maintains a Pantene Pro-V shine and he (probably) doesn’t even shower! And all ya’all SLEPT ON IT. Corey smacks the top of his podium in satisfaction. DONE!

That was indeed a fine pick Corey.

Excellence starts to materialize again behind Steve’s desk. He startles, lurching back in his seat. The doors to the enigmatic call box swing open….but no one steps out. Steve looks at the ship uncertainly, and then turns back to the captains. I...uhhh…

She has 20 seconds left! Miss Fury points at her watch impatiently.

Steve gets up and tentatively steps up to the door. Betsy? Are you in there?

Suddenly, Corey Smith bursts through the doors! Steve stumbles back into the desk, and when he’s allowed to focus on the sight before him, he gasps. Oh my God, Corey!

Indeed, Corey Smith has emerged from Excellence! But it’s not just any Corey Smith, it’s…

I’m Cyber Corey from the future!

Uhhhh, okay, kinda stealing my job, but whatevs. Cyber Corey is outfitted with numerous doodads grafted right into his skin. Meanwhile, regular Corey is jumping up and down in excitement.

HOLY SHIT! Are you guys seeing how badass Cyber me from the future is?!

Demos makes a dramatic show of yawning, Thad is still gazing longingly at regular Corey and….Dick Powers and Miss Fury are canoodling behind Dick’s podium?!!

Cyber Corey stabs a finger at Fury and Dick’s unseemly, saliva laden display. And THAT is precisely what I’m here to stop!

You’re here to stop them making out?

No! I’m here to stop Dick Powers’ Sub Cutaneous Ulcerous Mutagen from destroying humanity!

What are you talking about?

Cyber Corey gestures at the disgusting sheen that has been creeping out from Dick’s podium. Dick’s SCUM! It’s a mutagenic infection that causes people to find Dick incomprehensively attractive! And then, once they mate, the victim develops hundreds of disgusting weeping pus filled sores that are HIGHLY contagious! It destroys humanity in the future!

EW!

Whoa…heavy.

Thad turns towards Fury and Dick, who are oblivious to everything and still sucking face. I’ll stop them! Saving humanity will surely rid me of all my ennui causing moral ambiguity!

No, don’t touch them! Cyber Corey calls out! But Thad is already in motion. Time slows to a crawl as he reaches up slowly, ever so painfully slowly, to take Miss Fury’s shoulder and wrench her away! But Thad doesn’t notice the hideous sores pock marking her body already!

Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! Regular Corey bellows in a slowled down baritone of his usual voice. Corey throws himself at Thad, catching him about the waist and knocking him out of harms way. Thad falls safely to the side but Corey has no control of his own momentum, and he finds himself tumbling headlong into a greasy pile of Dick’s SCUM!

Time returns to it’s usual pantameter, and Thad, Steve, and Demos look on in shock as Corey stands, covered in strands of sickly looking mucous. Thad and Regular Corey’s eyes meet. A tear creeps out of Thad’s eye. Cor’....are you okay?

Regular Corey’s body hitches spasmodically. No...no Thad, I don’t think so.

No! You have to be okay! You have to!

Thad, you need to listen to me because I’m not sure how much time I have left before I start making out with that flesh pile of unwashed anus behind me. Thad, you NEVER needed me, okay? Everything you ever accomplished has been on your own.

Corey...no….

Please let me finish! You are a brilliant, beautiful, complicated, frustrating, talented, good hearted man. And you will go on to a life time’s worth of amazing things. Being Frankie’s Dad not the least of them! Just, never forget who you are, okay? Don’t….*urk*....don’t….Corey struggles. I love you, Thad. By now his voice is a choked wheeze.

I love you Corey!

Cyber Corey, you know what you have to do!

With a grim certainty etched into his features Cyber Corey steps to the fore. He raises his arm up and his hand folds back revealing a blaster weapon. The weapon starts to whine to life, and deep inside a furious light is sparked. Steve dives behind his desk. Thad averts his eyes. Demos leaps to safety. And then, right before the ensuing energy blast wipes out Corey, Miss Fury, and Dick, we can just barely make out Corey marking out for his future self one last time.

Awesome.

And then, they’re all dust, and a massive burning hole has been punched through the back wall. Cyber Corey raises up his weapon arm, and his hand snaps back into place on his wrist. I’m so sorry everyone. But it had to be done. And now, this whole area needs to be quarantined and all of you need to be checked out by medical professionals to be doubly sure the infection has not spread further.

Steve peeks his head up from behind his desk. B-but we were doing the War Games Live Draft! What happens now?!

Thad stands up, shaking his head mournfully. There’s no more draft Steve. At least not for me. I’m out. I just...I just can’t! He holds his hands up to his weeping eyes and darts off camera.

Hey, HEY! Don’t go too far Thad!

Steve throws his arms up in the air in exasperation. Well now we only have two captains left! Actually….where’s Betsy Granger?

Oh. Er. Hmmm. Cyber Corey hemhaws. She was actually killed in action fighting a team of rabid SCUM infected trans girls lead by Supreme Warlord Green in the future.

Jesus CHRIST!

Yeah. It was messy.

Finally, Demos rushes Steve’s desk, panting in excitement. So does that mean I win by default?!

I….I guess so. I mean, what else are we gonna do, elect some lame ass replacement captains like Corporate Chaos or Chris Page?

YES! YES!! I finally have a winning record again! Demos’ jock strap mask pumps in and out with each exclamatory breath. WIN BY DEFAULT! WIN BY DEFAULT! WIN BY DEFAULT! He chants and marches away from Steve’s desk.

Hey, don’t you go too far either “Marx for Mental Patients”! Cyber Corey chases after Demos as Steve straightens his suit jacket and sits back down behind the desk. Then, taking one final long draught from the flask, he holds it up to the camera as if to say “cheers”. Well, hell if I know what that was. But good night XWF fans, and good luck!

EPILOGUE: Despite being the sole participant in the War Games 2021 contest, Demos somehow still managed to lose. No one remembers or understands how, perhaps because it was such a sheer unfettered display of SUCK the human mind was ill equipped to process it. Fuck Demos.