Since becoming The Champion of ALL Television, shows have been beating down the door to have Corey Smith guest star! But perhaps it is fitting that Corey’s first outing be the show that nursed you when you were home sick from school and reminded you to have your pets spayed and neutered, yes that’s right the grandpappy of game shows….THE PRICE IS RIGHT!

A fortune in fabulous prizes awaits if…..THE PRICE IS RIGHT! George Gray cajoles as the show opens. And please welcome our special guest host filling in for Drew Carey….COREY SMITH!

Corey bounds out from behind one of those eponymous stage doors, all smiles and holding a classic stick microphone. The crowd is eating it up as Corey takes the stage.

And now for today’s first contestants, Tyson Wells….COME ON DOWN!! A middle aged African American man runs down the aisle pumping his arms.

Doris Munchausen….COME ON DOWN! A septuagenarian in a cat sweater starts making her way down the aisle.

Molly Bryant….COME ON DOWN! A college co-ed looking girl with “I *heart* Drew” sprinkled across her boobs in a tight sweater bounds down.

And finally….Chaz Meyers COME ON DOWN! And the array wouldn’t be complete without some douchey dude bro high fiving his buds as he makes his way to the aisle.

Finally, with the contestants front and center, Corey kicks things off. Greetings everyone, and welcome to The Price Is Right. I honestly can’t believe I’m here! It’s been my boyhood dream to be on this show and I am fuuuuu-uhhhhh-dgin’ stoked! Nice recovery, Cor’. It’s a family show. Corey looks anxiously off stage as one of the producers stares daggers at him. Heh heh. Anyway, let’s look at our first item up for bids, and it is one near and dear to my heart. It’s….

….A TRIP TO COREYTOPIA, FLORIDA! One of the massive stage doors opens to reveal a painted facsimile of Corey’s estate. You’re bidding on a five night and six day stay at Corey Smith’s lovely compound, where you will spend your days under the hot sun pulling up turnips and erecting fencing to keep out wild hogs!

It’s a real problem!

This lovely trip can be yours if THE PRICE IS RIGHT!

YES! Tyson, you’re up first my man.

Tyson scrunches his nose up. Uh, like, 100 bucks I guess?

Corey looks wounded, but slathers on the cool in short order. Alright, alright. Doris my dear, what have you got?

ONE MILLION DOLLARS! She cheers. The board below her errors out.

Now that’s more like it! Molly, you’re up.

Uhhhh….two thousand dollars?

Not bad, not bad but not stealin’ Doris’ shine either. Chaz?

Two thousand and ONE dollars, Corey! Molly looks annoyed at him and Chaz obnoxiously waggles his tongue at her.

That’s dirty pool Chaz, and you know it. Corey scowls as he pulls out the answer. But it doesn’t matter because the actual retail price is PRICELESS meaning Doris came closest! DORIS COME ON DOWN!

The other contestants bear some serious WTF faces as Doris gives it all she’s got with her little old lady self and joins Corey on the stage. She gives Corey a big hug and Corey reciprocates.

Awwww, thanks Doris!

My granddaughter is going to be so upset that I got to meet Justin Bieber before she did!

Corey’s face drops. Ma’am, I’m not Justin Bieber. I’m Corey Smith.

She covers her mouth with her hands and gasps. I thought you were dead!

You, uhhhh, might be thinking of Corey Haim. I work for the XWF.

Oh my, that’s pornography! She retorts, aghast.

Sometimes! But rollin’ right along, Doris are you ready to play….PLINKO??!!

Goodness me!

With much lights and fanfare, the Plinko board is revealed!



Corey ushers Doris up to the Plinko board. Alright Doris, here’s what you gotta do. Over there are 4 pieces of XWF merchandise. If you can guess which of the two digits are…

Oh I know what to do, Justin, give me my freebie! Doris practically yanks the first Plinko chip out of Corey’s hands.

Alrighty then, do it to it. And my name still isn’t Justin. He points to the awaiting items while shooting a subtle stank face at Doris. First up, we have….DEMOS’ WHOLE CAREER!

The capsule swivels around to reveal a blown up image of Demos with his back flat on the mat. The digits below it are “nine” and “zero”.

Alright, so tell me, which digit is incorrect in the worth of Demos’ entire career?

Doris looks contemplative. Well, I don’t even know what a Demos is! So it’s a blind guess! I’m gonna say “9”.

The model, standing by, reveals the actual price of….00 dollars! Doris claps excitedly as Corey hands her another chip. Yes, that’s right, Demos’ entire career is worth nothing. Alright Doris, let’s see how we do on this next one. It’s…..A MEET AND GREET WITH JAMES RAVEN! The pod slides open to reveal that there’s nothing there.

Doris squints. Justin, I don’t see anything!

Ahhhhh shoot. Shoulda seen THAT coming. Uh, here. He hands her a Plinko chip. Just take it. And then, with a start. And I just remembered the third prize was a meet and greet with Shawn Warstein sooooo…. He hands over yet another chip. Let’s just go to the last prize. He speaks wearily.

The fourth pod opens to reveal a framed piece of paper, which a handy close up reveals to be one piece of stock in BourbCo.

What is that?

It’s stock in BourbCo.

Huh?

Pretty much everyone’s reaction. So which digit is incorrect? The model waves her hands over the numbers “7” and “2”.

Doris looks uncertain, and turns to the crowd for support. After listening to their cacophony of half assed guesses for a moment, she says The seven?

The model reveals the actual retail price of….12! Doris you got it! But incidentally that’s 12 cents not 12 dollars because Robbie Bourbon lost interest in his own company almost as fast as he lost interest in being a decent person.

I don’t understand any of that, but I’m ready to win some money!

Of course, Doris! Let’s head over to the….!



We rather abruptly transition to Corey backstage where he’s seated in a director’s chair with the Price is Right logo plastered on the back. Corey turns around to meet the camera’s all seeing eye.

Sorry about the cock tease meine freundin. Ordinarily I’d be pleased as punch to wax on at length about my turn at the wheel of the world’s greatest game show, but due to some pressing late breaking news, a change of plans was in order. But, spoilers, Doris did pretty well for herself and won $15,000. And then she asked me what it was like to star in The Goonies. I hope she has a responsible adult in her life to help her manage her winnings.

But, whether it be by divine providence or Betsy getting caught up in some interstellar conflict or another, we have had a change to the card! And the irony of it is not lost on me in the slightest, because Betsy from the Block was replaced by sentient mid-meeting wet fart Robbie Bourbon. Now, as some of you may recall, Robbie and about half of B.O.B. saw fit to quadruple team Betsy back at Retro Anarchy to send a message to her S.O. James Raven. It was one of the grossest, most gratuitous ambushes I’ve ever seen. And I don’t know who’s worse, Robbie for perpetrating it or James for letting it fly. But James isn’t here (shocker, I know!) so all we got is you Robbie….

YOU

FUCKING

PUSSY.

Did you catch that Robbie? The part where I called you a pussy? Because you are a PUSSY. Punk bitch ass excuse for an undescended testicle. You have NO IDEA how thrilled I was when Theo rang me up and said you were pinch hitting, because I’ve been thinking about this one for some time.

And you know what, this has nothing to do with the tag titles. Although I’m sure you’re gonna claim otherwise. Because honestly, for as much as I may disagree with everything B.O.B. has done or will hypothetically do, the fact is that you and TK probably were the next most deserving tag team in the XWF. I own that! Granted, it took you guys a couple tries, but ya did it. Bully for you. In fact, I was actually kinda relieved that somebody put a bullet in my last remaining tie to Doc.

So nah, this ain’t about the tag team titles. This is all about June 12th 2021 and how that scumbag display was the very essence of who Robbie Bourbon is and always has been. You sweaty muppet.

Despite being an unrepentant sociopath, Robbie would still have you believe that he’s this whacky madcap bit of cartoon chaos. Merry Melodies in a singlet. Because you see, he does funny things with TK! He cracks jokes! He has wacky adventures! He goes all white boy Wu-Tang on the regular! But the fact is that when even The Engineer is able to confidently hold some moral high ground over you, YOU ARE A GIANT PIECE OF SHIT.

You flesh suitcase for C.Diff shits!

You personification of a post-coital sob session!

Look, I get that wrestling is a nasty game, and that the XWF is the nastiest of nasties. But a four on one attack on Betsy Granger because you “felt some kinda way” about a loss to James Raven months earlier is about the most pathetic goddamn thing I’ve ever seen. That night you said that now you get to be “the ultimate weapon”. Funny that, I didn’t realize ultimate weapons needed their signal boosted by three other guys and an attack from behind.

You didn’t look dominant and in control, although that’s what you were going for, wasn’t it? No. You looked like a big pissy baby that couldn’t get over ancient history and some banter on Twitter. News flash fuck face, real men don’t follow up a loss with a gangland assault on a guy’s girlfriend nine months later.

You undulating ass pile!

You assembly line for shit streaked tighty whities!

You wanna act like a bully yet again Bobby? Then you’re fixin’ to down some of your own ‘Tussin. I may not be capital “E” evil anymore, but that doesn’t mean my penchant for exposing you to the world in singles competition has lessened at all.

Bobby, you're not even a fully realized person, just this pastiche of gimmicks and angles. Smoke and mirrors with a high cholesterol count. You'll probably want to say the same thing about me, but you'll be wrong. Because I learn, grow and evolve. I learn from past mistakes. And when I make a change to who I am, it's not just some carnival barking personality redux but an attempt to get nearer to who and what I'm meant to be. And I know you’ll squall and whine about how Mirror Universe Corey already made these arguments, but goddamn it if they aren’t still true over a year later. Which is a sad fucking sight for one Bobby Bourbon.

You bloviating pillock!

You midget armed reach around!

Fuck, this is fun! And you know what else is gonna be fun? Chasing your gassed bloated body around the ring as you desperately look for the tag that isn’t coming. Bobby, you've spent the better part of a year getting to phone a friend when things got hard. And while you’ve put all your stock in revolutionizing the tag team division by facing no team of any real consequence since Continuum, I’ve been back to tearing it up in the singles division. I murked your boy Andre again and made it look even easier on the second go round. I beat the most stacked Leap of Faith roster since EVER. In fact, the only blemish on my record is a loss to my Thaddy Daddy, and that’s after I made short work of Miss Fury. You regretting all that “every other team is just a mash up of glorified singles wrestlers” talk yet? Yeah, suddenly multi-tasking is looking pretty goddamn good, ain’t it?

You win this TV title over my dead body. B.O.B. gets NOTHING else. Nothing! This win is a moral imperative. And while I’m sure you don’t think ethics wins wrestling matches, it’s going to win THIS ONE. Because I’m riding high on a righteous wave of moral fury channeled straight into every single kick I level against those unshorn jowls laden with the lingering tang of yet another pathetic crying fast food binge. But food is no substitute for a soul, Bobby. No, not even Denny’s. But I’m sure that won’t stop you from knocking down a few Grand Slams as you ponder the sucking void where your character should be.

Are you sick of my pretentious moralizing? Are you, Bobby? Well, eat ALL the shit you pedophile apologist! Because I’m just getting started. This is going to be, quite possibly, the most satisfying match I’ve ever had. Knocking around this bloated wreckage of human detritus that’s so lacking in motivation he’s willing to roll over and play second string to Chris Page of all people. And that’s the real pisser of it, Bobby. Because you’re not untalented. You’re just an asshole. And if you really wanted to knock Page off his perch, I don’t think there’s a damn soul in the back who would lay a red cent on him. You’re better than him. Even you at your laziest is still better than Chris Page. And yet you’ve been content to let him play ring general for months and carpetbag his way into being B.O.B.’s Chief Executive Orifice.

Bobby, I like to play the long game. And the cold hard fact is that no matter how dominant a faction may seem...it will end. Everything ends. It may take a while. It may take a LONG while. But the arc of wrestling history always, inevitably, curves towards dissolution. And when that day comes, are you going to go down with the ship, clutching feebly onto Chris Page’s dank smelling coattails? Or are you finally gonna man up and kick this crutch away for good?

Corey shrugs nonchalantly.

I’m gonna end this on a tangential note. Because a big part of representing the decency faction of the XWF is acknowledging when you’re wrong. Moreover, it’s acknowledging when you’re wrong even when you despise the one you wronged.

Miss Fury.

Yeah, you pretty much phoned in your promo leading up the War Games captains match, but you ended it on a poignant note. You pointed out how my portrayal of you in my bit was pretty off color given what went on between you and Lane. Corey sighs. Look, I don’t watch B.O.B. anything. So I had no idea what the details were of that particular scandal. But ignorance is no excuse. And I came across looking like I shamed a woman who was raped.

Now, I’m not going to sit here and say that I don’t still have some niggling doubts that we’re getting the whole story there. But in the interest of doing the right thing, I’m going to apologize for my insensitivity. Nobody knows better than I do how much it sucks being along for the ride in your own body. And for me to discount that pain would be massively hypocritical. I get it. I still don’t like you. I still don’t trust you. But that doesn’t mean you can’t be hurt. So I apologize.

Corey holds his arms out in a conciliatory fashion and bows his head.

And anybody that’s got a problem with me apologizing for that can go suck a big fat one. That includes you boss man. Keep it in your pants.

Corey!

An authoritative voice barks and damn near makes Corey pop out of his seat. Drew Carey marches up to him, looking piping mad!

Look Drew, I’m sorry about….

Nevermind the show! I heard Robby Bourbon was giving you shit?

Well, not YET, technically….

I fucking hate that guy! And if you need any help dealing with that problem, you just holler!

Wow! Uh, thanks! But I think…

I was a Marine, Corey. Drew suddenly looks steely eyed.

Yeah...I know…

The big boys always squealed the loudest under those unforgiving lights, Corey. The glint of the steel against their throats. Teasing the flesh. Milking a delicate line of crimson as a prelude to the main event. Drew drops right down into a thousand yard stare. You get a knife sharp enough, why, it parts like the sea, Corey. It parts like the sea.

Corey is practically trying to ass scoot out of his chair. His eyes are wide as saucers. Uhhhh….yeah…..

But anyhoo… Drew claps Corey on the shoulder, snapping out of his demented revelry. Ya did good, kid! Corey visibly flinches. You might even have the chops to host your own game show one day. Drew’s hand lingers on Corey’s shoulder. It tenses up, squeezing Corey’s skin ever so slightly. But not mine. He smiles at Corey and it’s fucking bone chilling. Corey just nods lamely as he chances a glance at the camera and mouths “help me.”



Ooh rah.