Club B.O.B. was recently spurned and shunned by the hipper Magic players due to the amount of attention going towards the lousy ingrates who were literally stinking up the joint with their

NOXIOUS VAPORS

We see Bobby seated at a table with a few very awkward looking, also very dirty looking, nerds. Cyberjaw, the man with the cybernetic jaw, and Diamondback, the man who can blend into any crowd, are watching the happenings at the table, as is Thunder Knuckles. The assembled strippers are all standing around the table, watching as Bobby tries to finally win.

I pass the turn.

Bobby smirks, feeling confident that he's finally got this one.

I've finally got this one.

Bobby twiddles some cardboard rectangles hither dither.

I cast Dolly Waters!



Oh, fucking Nice!

I know, even if she's not in BOB anymore, or is she?

Cyberjaw shrugs. The dork playing Bobby seems oblivious to his musings.

Ugh, pass!

Bobby looks pleased as he takes his turn.

I attack with Dolly Waters! That puts you at zero!

You fucking won?

I won!

HA! GET FUCKED NERDS!

The nerd immediately stands.

This is bullshit! You shouldn’t win, this is your shop, you’re obviously trying to harm the business we bring here.

What the actual fuck are you talking about? You don’t fucking buy anything!

You also should give your players more incentive instead of rubbing it in their face!

But, it’s the first time I’ve won…

The nerd fumes as the other goblinoid creatures that support him all come to console him.

Bobby, are you thinking what I’m thinking.

That’s all I can stands ‘cause I can’t stands no more!

What?

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

Tired of irritable bowel syndrome?

We see a man holding hands with a lady as they walk through a park. They’re smiling at each other, pointing at this and that in the park like they’ve never walked outside before. Oh boy, there’s a dandelion. Oh, holy fuck, get a load of that squirrel! Hot diggedy damn, there’s a pond and some ducks in it, who’d have fucking thunk it? All on a sunny day with barely a cloud in the sky. However, at once, the man’s face goes to utter shock. He releases the hand of the lady and rushes towards a port-o-john with the speed of Usain Bolt.

Does loose stools hamper your lifestyle?

We see a child’s birthday party. Several kids are seated around a table, crowded up next to the birthday girl, whose eyes are aglow with glee at the sight of a huge cake with candles atop it. Several adults are also in the room, and the light of the golden hour pours in through the open windows. Presents are scattered across the table, ornately wrapped boxes and packages, the usual gift bag overflowing with tissue paper here and there, vividly colored envelopes containing cards, and if she, the birthday girl is lucky, some money too. Suddenly, a woman standing behind the girl, presumably her mother but in all honesty it could just be some stranger they let into the house, none of it is explicit, makes a face of complete horror. She runs off to the bathroom.

Aren’t you sick and tired of this shit?

We see a business meeting in a contemporary boardroom. The glass encased group seems intent on listening to the lecture being given by a man standing in front of them. He speaks at them, his hands gesturing around as he is offering up whatever proposal or solution the company needs at the time. The well dressed, far from casual business people all conduct themselves while smiling, happy to hear whatever he is telling them but we can’t hear over the sound of the generic muzak being played. Suddenly, the man looks completely surprised, and he rushes out of the meeting, the rest of the group watching as a small brown stain grows in the seat of his khakis.

Having the drizzling shits is literally and figuratively the drizzling shits. That’s why we at BourbCo, with funding from the Oswald Foundation, have come up with the Crapper Capper.

*DING!*

We see a convoluted device that looks like the skullcap from an electric chair, only made of some black fabric, that connects to a cord, down to a strip about three feet long with thick needles attached to it, and then what appears to be a bulbous device that’s made of rubber.

That’s right, the Crapper Capper!

We see the man from the beginning of the commercial standing in a bathroom, just out of the shower, looking into his mirror which is not even fogged up whatsoever. He puts the cap on. After he does so, the lady attaches the strip with needles directly to his spine.

It’s modern science for modern problems. First, put on the Crapper Capper cap. Then, insert the neural sensors directly into the spinal column.

The man bends over and makes a shocked face as the lady rears back with her right hand holding the bulbous device and thrusts it towards his rectum.

Lastly, insert the relief bladder into the anus.

We see the man and the lady walking through the park. The lady is smiling, pointing at all the mundane stuff all over again. The man looks distinctly uncomfortable and walking as stiffly as one would with a bunch of needles in the spine and a ball up one’s ass along with ridiculous headwear. We see the birthday girl walking in a grocery store and holding up a box of cereal eagerly towards her mommy, hoping beyond hope the box of high fructose corn syrup and other diabetes traps will be bought. The mommy has her lips pursed, her face twitching as electric shocks shoot throughout her entire nervous system. The man at the board meeting is seen standing in a corner of a cubicle farm, drooling.

“I haven’t shit in a week!”

That’s right! The Crapper Capper! With five easy installments of $24.99, you can get yours, and if you act now, get a second one free! Call today!

A phone number scrolls along the bottom of the screen.

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

Back in Club B.O.B., the nerds who have been stinking up the joint stand united. Bobby and TK are standing right in front of them as Big Puddin’ and the Muscle Midget are behind them.

Okay, you guys gotta go. You’re driving away business.

This is absurd!

You’re fucking absurd!

Fuck you!

Bobby and TK glance at each other and nod. Bobby kicks the nerd in the stomach and hoists him up, and TK hops up onto the stage where the strippers dance. He grabs the stripper pole, spins around it to gain momentum, and after doing a 180, he charges back off the stage…

Rainbow Laser Death Sequence

As the most devastating move in all of wrestling hits, the other nerds are picked up by Big Puddin’ and the Muscle Midget and carried out of the club.TK looks over at Bobby.

Thank fucking God that’s over.



*****************************************************************************************

**PREACH**

*****************************************************************************************

Club BOB is closed for the night once again. The lady’s are hanging out this time, topless, behind Bobby and TK. Barney begins to spin some hot jams for Them No Good Bastards to spit fire to.

Fucking classy, huh, guys! Well, it's time to get to work. These two mother fucking lames are really reinventing the wheel when it comes to sucking as a goddamn team, don’t they Bobby? I mean fuck, they talked a big fucking game about how we’re bad rasslers and shit. Let’s talk about Tag Team rassling. You know the goddamn thing we completely dominate. Nothing screams tag team like two fucking guys desperately trying to bond while failing. Cooper should hang up his fucking speedo and Eobard should probably go work at a goddamn burger joint. Talk about two guys being fucking uninspiring. Shit, look no farther than Them No Good Bastards to hit you with those lines, that rattle you to your fucking core. You two shit sandwiches don’t even have the faintest clue, how to do what we do! We got a lot of plans for the tag team division and not a single goddamn one has anything to do with you. We’re the team that can turn any venue into a mother fucking zoo. When we meet in time square, you’re piss ants are going to do exactly what we want you to do. While you try to step up, while you keep trying to play catch up, that's why you goddamn shit muzzles are through. Our record versus your record you bitch should have knew. You fucking idiots don't even get it , we’re the greatest, and every syllable of that is true. Now, If you don’t mind. I’m going to sit back and watch Bobby throw goddamn verbal concussion bombs, on these two , limp dick, mother fuckers.

Seriously, TK, what the fuck was Ned even thinking when he took these bozos on and decided it was high time to engage in gang warfare within the XWF? Quick answer, he wasn’t. It was a fleeting notion he should have just left as a hair brained scheme. Instead, his two crummy lackeys are going to get fucking pancaked by[/volot]

Them No Good Bastards!

These two jagaloons are going to come to challenge

Them No Good Bastards!

And ultimately get utterly decimated by

Them No Good Bastards!

Them No Good Bastards!Because we aren’t done. We aren’t finished. I have the unrelenting Relentless Legend by my side, he has the Big Bad Big Bad of Big Bads on his, and the best thing either of these tools can rely on is each other, and neither of them are anything you can rely on for shit besides failure and embarrassment. Care to make a wager, Mr. Knuckles? I’ll lay an even fifty thousand Xbux that neither of these jagoffs show their faces anywhere near us ever again. They’ve made their play, for sure, they’ve bitched and moaned about the front office denying their shot here, one they never fucking earned besides just being on the roster and being a team. They’ve snuck up and hit us when we weren’t looking, just like MorbidMind, and that’s a team that’s gone the way of the dodo, the condor, and the velociraptor. Extinction, Mr. Knuckles! It’s not that we’re going to kill EXP, no, they were doomed from the start, and we aren’t killers. Nosirree, we’re ass whoopers. We’re back breakers. We’re a couple of fucking gunslingers, shooting our way through whatever posse comes next, knowing we’re the wanted men. We know we’re the fastest guns around, and that there’s always going to be another threat, another challenge waiting in the wings, some other tandem thinking they have the balls and the backbone to take us down, to put us under, and to end the reign we share as Tag Team Champions. Then the clock strikes, it’s fucking zero hour, and all the high hopes and fantastic dreams get crushed. We’ll get blood from a Stone and leave Cooper in a stupor, they came to fight but they’ll leave in a fit. After Warfare, on the streets of New York, EXP will have a conniption, for either one a Rainbow Laser Death Sequence is the prescription! These fools walking in under Ned Kaye’s conscription are doomed to be entombed like some ancient Egyptian. Thinking their big but get laid out like the Pharoahs, carry the parts of their bodies off in wheelbarrows, we don’t shoot from the hip, we hit the bullseye like an arrow. Gonna beat these fools so bad we’ll even break their bone marrow! Stephen Cooper wants us to believe he isn’t bad, this guy’s a failure even as a dad! Couldn’t bring himself to mention us, ain’t that sad? No wonder both of these guys lost to Thad! They gotta be happy, I can not dismiss, because these guys are so stupid and ignorance is bliss. People watch in bafflement and ask themselves “who does this?” These guys are as solid as a bucket of piss. Fuck Eobard, fuck Steven, it’s time to pay your bill. You wrote checks you can’t cash, you and the rest of Landfill. Fuck the nonsense, the bullshit, and the noise that y’all shill. Retain these Tag Titles? Fuck yeah, we will! Take it away, Brother Knuckles.

I can’t get over it. I just can’t! Who in their right fucking mind put these two together? Has Ned truly fucking gone out of his way to surround himself with two guys? They can barely stand and piss at the same time. Cooper’s old and he hurts to stand, I get it. Eobard sits to piss, and spends more time on his back, than a whore in the wild west. They have claimed no amount of hand waving will make them disappear. Good thing we’re not fucking Jedi’s and use our bodies as fucking weapons. We’re definitely not some run-of-the-mill, ten-cent champions. We’re Them No Good Bastards the bodies, nobody in their right minds wants to face, but we ain’t ducking no one. That’s right, shit rabbits!


Bobby looks over at TK bewildered

Shit rabbits?

TK smiles at Bobby and replies.

Yeah, because they fuck like shit rabbits, making more shit babys, for their shit chance of beating us!

Exactly.

Step on up! Do you think you got what it takes? Then contact your local funeral home and tell’em you want the-

TK makes air quotes.

-“I want to fight Them No Good Bastards” discount. They’ll draw up the paperwork. That way at least you have a place to go when we bury your asses into the fucking ground. We’re the rockstar thugs, rasslers, and mother fucking celebrities that these numbnuts wish they could be. Over, popular, goddamn entertaining, I'm fucking handsome as Hell, and Bobby’s got a huge dick! So come at us, bro!

Bobby thumps his chest.

Strong like bull.

Huge! Anyway, Ned’s master plan looks like a fucking dried-up turd! Be honest with yourselves, if this is the best tag team he has to offer. It's time to get back to the drawing board. It shows he’s got his fingers far from the pulse of the XWF fans because these two shit clowns aren’t getting the job done. Don’t think for one fucking second that we’re overlooking you smelly-ass sweat socks either, huh-uh. Time Square is going to be the beginning of the goddamn end of Landfill. Unfortunately for them, the front page of the New York Times, the next day, will be all filled out. Yep, the headlines will read, Them No Good Bastards ended yet another tag team. You’re Landfill, you’re nothing. Time to go to the back of the line, bitches. Go on now, get.


TK bushes away the camera with his hand. Bobby snarls before busting out some of the finest trash talk that man has ever seen.

Cooper and Stone are like an abacus and a xylophone in a dictionary, not even on the same page. Stone thinks Cooper will lead him, Cooper hopes Stone can provide for him, I’ve seen the blind leading the blind more successfully than these two. You know what, TK? Fuck it. That’s all for now.

Them No Good Bastards clink their titles together showing Cooper and Stone how a TAG TEAM works as a Team.