Bobby and TK are in the all-inclusive trailer on the set of one of their upcoming BOBTube shows. Check local listings for information. They’re sitting back in their custom-made Arizona diamondback snake-skin recliners...

Relaxing.

Each recliner has a mini-mini fridge in each of the armrests, fancy. They are watching a 146 inch Samsung television. Ozzy is a very wealthy man, each venue must have these BOBs only locker rooms/trailers if they intend to have BOBs compete or do a production. You can see all the other neat stuff in the trailer but this isn’t a Robert Main production.

What’cha wanna watch Bobby?

I dunno.

Bobby has the remote and is wildly flipping through the channels.

How can you tell what’s on? You can barely read the shit as your flipping.

Bobby shrugs but TK doesn’t notice. TK is staring at a wall that happens to be a TV, after all.

I’m a fast reader, I guess. Oh!

Bobby smacks TK’s arm and points to the screen.

What?

BBC America.

Jimmy bursts into the room.

What are you guys doing?

We just started watching BBC America.

Shouldn’t you guys be recording a promo?

Jesus jumped on Christ, Jimmy! We’re facing the goddamn Thugs and that fucking new squad of fuck BOBers. What’s there name?

The Syndicate.

What are they the fucking syndicate of?

Jimmy even looks puzzled.

Well, I’ve been doing research and they’re 2 and 0.

Oh, yeah? Who the fuck have they beaten?

The Badd Brothers and Malice Cooper. Then Job Guy, The Big Upps, and Joey Oddjobs.

TK looks over at Bobby and they both seem unimpressed.

Goddamn it, Jimmy! Why do you have to come in here and ruin this chance we get in between filming our actual promos and bring this shit up! It’s fucking Anarchy! Sure we’re in control of it. Whatever, Literally showing the fuck up can make you a goddamn shit star, around here. It’s like a mother fucking paid vacation.

It’s not a paid vacation! It’s a match! A triple threat tag team match!

TK motions Jimmy to get closer. Jimmy walks over to TK and stands by his side.

Lean down here, I have to tell you something fucking important.

Jimmy leans down but as soon as he does TK slaps the piss out of him, literally.

Jimmy, did you just piss your pants.

No!

You did piss yourself, you sloppy fuck! I know it’s a goddamn triple threat tag team match and so does Bobby! It’s also non-fucking-title! You ever think that we know what’s going on! Shit. Just shut the fuck up! The Thugs don’t stand a chance. There’s no way they’re going to take out the fucking greatest tag team that this company has ever seen. The Syndicate fucking eliminated the entire job squad in their first two matches. Which let’s be fair though. If you pay close enough attention you’d have seen a couple of’em got rolled up off-camera. The ref could have counted to fucking twenty by the time those piss jugs would have kicked out. Don’t take it from me. Really! Watch the tapes! So, no, I don’t see either of these teams mattering enough to lift my ass off this chair to preach. Sorry, Jimmy. Just not going to fucking happen.

:Come on TK do it for the BOBbies at home, man.

TK doesn’t seem pleased that he has to give any kind of effort, at all, into The Syndicate.

How about just talk about the Thugs.

JB and Tommy? Shit, Tommy and yours truly, ‘Ol Thunder Knuckles, have crossed paths a couple of times, ya know. He’s a tough son of a bitch, weird though. What up, Tommy! Do you remember that bat from Savage, back on April 18th, 2020? I took that bat and cracked Robert Main in the back of the mother fucking head with it. You, of all mother fuckers, know we’re not coming to play games. You better let JB know that shit, too. Them No Good Bastards are coming to…

TK looks over at Jimmy for the answer.

The Lakefront arena in New Orleans Louisiana.

What the fuck he said. Anyway, bWo Anarchy, The Thugs, The Syndicate of nothing, will fall at the hands of Them No Good Bastards. Why? Bobby, how about you tell'em why.

The Syndicate? What a fucking waste of payroll. Solace Tatum comes back to the XWF to all the fanfare of a pig farting, and this time around she has lackies? Two dinks so low on the totem pole you have to look them up on a website. Brandon Walker is a cruiserweight who looks like he's built for being launched into the front row, and Katia Fyre doesn't even have a roster slot. These two gotta be getting paid something to get their asses whooped on TV. Then there's the Thugs, who put as many asses in seats as the janitors in the XWF offices in Chicago. The Thugs are like an unsharpened pencil, can't draw and pointless. Shit, the only challenge we have in this match is we have four opponents instead of two, but four tissues are just as good as two at stopping the flood incoming from Us No Good Bastards. So, here's the lowdown. Thugs, you left BOB, fair enough, Brandon and Katia, you guys are in the wannabe version of BOB. Fuck, TK, someone ordered competition for us off of Wish. Looked good and the price was nice, but still just a cheap knockoff.

TK and Bobby clink their tag titles together to remind the competition who they’re fucking with. This signals Todd in the truck to fade to black.