Please Login or Register to get full access to the forums.

Lost Password?
Current time: 03-28-2024, 05:14 AM (time should display as Pacific time zone; please contact Admin if it appears to be wrong)                                                                


X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » "Savage Saturday Night" RP Board
String Theory
Author Message
Prof. Bobby Bourbon Offline
Mad Scientist



XWF FanBase:
The 'cool' kliq fans

(booed by casual fans; opportunistic; often plays dirty while setting the trends)


#1
07-09-2021, 07:50 PM



In a sudden and inexplicable turn of events, Bobby Bourbon finds himself facing Corey Smith for the Television Championship on Savage. In a universe as vast and undefined as we live in, perhaps the circumstances were destined to line up this way.

Let's explain.

STRING THEORY

We open to see Bobby Bourbon sitting in his fabulous lab in his subterranean lair in New York. No time for the dojo on this one, super science awaits. Standing next to Bobby is the Muscle Midget. Bobby turns and looks towards the camera.

Oh, hello! Welcome to my lab! You see, in between my time working with Thunder Knuckles to revolutionize tag team wrestling as the world knows it and furthering the cryptically nefarious designs of B.O.B., so cryptic that most people don't even know why they hate us they just do, or make wonderful content for BOBTube, now on Roku and other respected streaming devices, I like to come down to the lab and do science! With me today is my friend the Muscle Midget. My best of buds, Thunder Knuckles, is out and about, probably with Atara. Now, I'm certain Mr. and Mrs. Midget never expected their son Muscle to aspire to the higher functions of science with a high functioning man of all seasons such as myself, and as a lab assistant, well, comme ci comme ça, but I needed some helping hands with me today. Because, today, I'll be demonstrating my newest creation, a potion designed to make a duck fall in love with a guava.

Bobby looks rightly pleased with himself as the Muscle Midget, seated on a stool, looks equally pleased. Cyberjaw, the man with the cybernetic jaw, walks out and places a duck on the table in front of Bobby. He turns and waves at the camera, then steps aside. The duck ruffles it's feathers a bit.

Quack.

Diamondback, the man who can blend into any crowd, walks out with a guava.

Meanwhile...

We see Robbie Bourbon stewing in his underground lab in New York. No time for the rest of Motherfuckers on this one. He's hunched over a table in the lab, his eyes wide, his lips pursed. He glances up and notices the camera.

Oh, hello XWF, and hello America. As former President of the United States, I know that I have to apply myself to something higher. Something greater. Something more than anything seen before. My tag team partner, Bearded War Pig, is off on a secret mission for President Trump. Fortunately, the brave warriors of January 6th exposed the fraud in the 2020 election, and America is going to be better than ever. As such, I am going to work on my next great creation, a potion that will make a guava fall in love with Lego bricks.

Cyberjaw, the man with the cybernetic jaw, walks out, carrying a box of Legos, which he spills all over the table. In short order, Blue, Robbie's girlfriend and handler, walks out with a guava.

Hey babe.

Hiya, honey bear.

In the meantime...

We see Robbie Bourbon sitting in the rear seat of a van, holding both a guava and an entire salami. In the driver's seat we see Pest, and riding shotgun is Morbid Angel. The Black Hand, en masse, is riding somewhere.

Y'know, I think the salami looks delicious, but I don't know why I have this guava.

Pest looks back at Robbie.

Robert, there is no time for this kind of hi-jinx. Kiril and I are taking this very seriously, if we are to capture the XWF Tag Team Championships and destroy Theo Pryce, then wasting time on that food is not going to help.


Robbie looks down at the guava.

I, uh, I don't know why I have it.

Also happening...

We see a fellow in his mid-thirties seated at a desk about two feet from a massive monitor. On another table beside him, his phone chirps. This man, his hair bedraggled and somewhat greasy, his chin adorned with scruff of two weeks without a razor's kiss, looks over at his phone and picks it up.

Oh, shit, Drew!

The man swipes away at his phone, and in short order, we hear that he's involved in a conference call as he turns back to the screen and keeps tapping away at his keyboard.

Bobby Motherfucking Bourbon!

Bobby, as it were in this particular instance, smiles without turning from the screen.

Sup, bro?

Oh, not much, how are you?

The voice on the other end, male and quite mellow, converses with the man called Bobby Bourbon as he types away. The sound dissipates for a brief moment until Bobby looks over at his phone. His eyes narrow and he reaches past his phone, picking up a guava.

Yo, bro, I must be going nuts. There's some weird fruit in my room!

I don't know what to tell you about that.

Heh, yeah, I bet if Dylan were here he'd make a joke about that.

Yes he would.

Both men laugh as Bobby shrugs, putting the guava back down.

However, in the world we're in...

Bobby and the Muscle Midget are seen shaking hands as a duck has mounted and began having sex with a guava.

As you can see, we have done science!

But, why?

Why do science?


Why did you make a duck have sex with a guava?

Well, that's the greatest part about science, I did it to see if I could!

But, how is that super science?


Don't you see? I have discovered a means to entice a creature into mating, and not just with one of it's own kind, but with a by comparison inanimate object!

I thought that's what booze was for.

Or porn.

Hushabee. I mean...

Bobby looks at the camera.

I mean, I could do just about anything, couldn't I?

Cyberjaw, Diamondback, and the Muscle Midget all look baffled as Bobby speaks to the camera directly.

Uh, what are you talking about.

Bobby clears his throat.

Somewhere, or somehow, else...

So, bro, I had this idea. I'm going to have Bourbs do some really wild science.

Oh yeah?

The Bobby seated at a computer and typing away has a smirk on his face. The guava on the desk has a hole in it.

Elsewhere...

Aha, success! I as you can see, the guava is perfectly linked to the Legos!

Honey, you just jammed a plastic brick into a piece of fruit.

Did I? Or did I set about proving String Theory?

Blue looks at Robbie and rolls her eyes.

In Another Realm...

Hey, a hole opened up in this guava.

Oh, Robert, throw that thing away, it's probably rotten. Where did you get it?


I don't know!

Pest turns around and grabs the guava. As he does, Morbid Angel screams. Pest immediately reacts and sees the road in front of him, and we hear the brakes screech. Robbie looks panicked!

At the center of all this...

We see Bobby Bourbon in his lab. He's tossing a guava in one hand, up and down, playing catch with himself. He's alone, but looking around, as though he's waiting on something.

Did you ever get the feeling that you just weren't yourself, but yourselves?

Bobby places the guava on the table.

Heh, we pardon your regularly scheduled broadcast for this special announcement. Now, I was definitely thinking about making a cool science show for BOBTube, but the way things have been going lately, I reckon my opponents are expecting me to do a TV parody, or a show, and they'll set about pretending they're writing for Saturday Night Live to come up with some skit or whatnot to show they can do what I do. It's cute, a complete novelty, but really something that is better left for myself and my fellow Bastard in Arms to coordinate on. However, what if, IF, I decided to follow trends for a change? Heh, let me explain.

Bobby picks the guava back up.

So, I got a call the other day. It turns out Betsy Granger won't be able to make her appearance at Saturday Night Savage and challenge Corey Smith for the Television Title. Bummer, huh?

Bobby smirks.

I guess the wear and tear laid down on poor ole' Bets from the beatings she took in recent weeks precluded her having a night off. It's a shame, isn't it? Her chance to challenge for the Television Championship against one of the finest competitors in the XWF, Corey Smith.

Bobby tosses the guava up with his right hand and palms it with his left.

Hiya, Corey. Long time no see. Looks like we're doing this dance again, aren't we. Well, I guess the song has changed, the dance floor is lit a little differently, and the stakes are different, but when we get to doing our two-step it's like we never missed a beat, isn't it? Well, I got a phone call the other day, and I heard that the one and only Impossible Traveler, who can span dimensions mind you, wouldn't be able to make it to y'alls match at Savage, and that they needed someone to challenge for the Television Title. Well, I checked my schedule, I was pretty free and clear since TK and I have all but cleaned out all the tag competition in the XWF, who knows, maybe Apex will be next? Maybe the Thugs? Maybe you and Alias can come together and take your best shot at losing to Them No Good Bastards. However the universe wants to set them up, we'll knock them down.

Bobby looks at the guava and takes a deep, satisfied breath.

You're probably going off the deep end right now trying to cook up something to dazzle the world with your wordplay, dropping words that'll score you a billion points in Scrabble but aren't worth a damn once we set foot in the ring. You're probably going off about B.O.B. this, B.O.B. that, which is well and good and all. Say our name, shout it in the streets, no news is good news, after all, and if you or anyone else wants to bring us up as the hot button issue in the wrestling world today, who should I be to stop you. Make people hear about us, Corey. Tell them to hashtag us, demean us, decry us, say what you want about us, but you know what doesn't happen? Nobody is topping us. Not that we have a perfect track record, mind you, but nobody is without their flaws, or should I say all of us? Welp, there I go again, being cryptic. Hold on, let me slip into something more comfortable for you. Something you can grasp.

Bobby clears his throat. He places the guava down.

There's a sickness going 'round like a wave of Corona, hitting the desert winds all the way in Arizona to the sunny beaches of Daytona all the way across the ocean into Barcelona is the silly idea of wrestlers with an alternate persona. Your name ain't worth shit and can't sell a ticket? Make a new goofy name and maybe you'll stick it to the opposition like it's a real sticky wicket but y'all fools always cut yourselves off when at triplicate. The three faces whomever, you had three names, Demos and Robert Main even played those games. Chris Page did it for a while 'till it seemed kinda lame and now Dock is in on it since he went up in flames. All saying the same thing, that it was the other guy, and for the longest time I would ask myself 'why?' Take pride in yourself and light up the sky, no reason to back off be coy and act shy. You're ashamed of what you did to the highest amount, hit personal hurdles that you just couldn't surmount, don't want to own up to losses or some lousy body count, even if the Engineer sure helped Corey's bank account. Blood money, your past, your present, your future, wear a new monicker like it's haut couture! Leave them sins in the past since they're so tough to endure, those days are right behind you, but in front too, I assure!

Bobby picks up the guava and holds it out in front of himself towards the camera.

So let's get scientific, then. I know, I know, you're probably thinking I'm just being all whimsical and silly again, having fun with my words the way you have with yours. But, it stands to reason, if all of you can have all these multiples of yourselves running around, then I must be able to as well! Hence...

Bobby crushes the guava. As he does, we see several other Bobby/Robbie Bourbons appear in the room. Far more than two others.

Gentlemen, let's broaden our minds. As you can see, this is an example of Superstring Theory in practice. I'm Bobby Bourbon, and that's plainly evident. I'm a staunch patriot and former President of the United States...

Another Bobby raises his hand.

A musclebound henchman in an evil organization.

One of the Bobbies raises his hand.

A guy in a relationship, pfft, that sailed for me but to each their own. I've grown accustomed to my asexual nature at this point. And you wonder why I make fun of how much sexual tension you seem to have with everybody. Thad, Alias, hell, I'm pretty sure for a while you wanted to jump Dock's bones just because of your basic hormonal tendencies.


Another Bobby raises his hand and glances around looking for Blue.

Hell, I'm a fun loving guy!

A Bobby holding a duck attached to a guava raises his hand.

Sometimes I'm as ordinary as any of the fans who watch XWF shows!


The unmasked Bobby who was typing raises his hand.

As you can see, that's far more than three. And the coolest thing is, there's even more! These are just a few of me that I've pulled into our world, and I can tap into any one of them, but unlike so many of the folks around here in the XWF, there's a constant, and I ain't talking about a guava, kitten. It's the name.

Bobby raises his arms and all the rest of the Bobbies seem to all meld, or phase, into him, like a reverse prism, he becomes the focus of all his being from across time, space, and dimensions.

My name is Bobby Bourbon. Duh. You already knew that. You're not too dumb, Corey, you should know that by now, easy peasy. Thing is, I reckon you're going to be pretty distracted and scatterbrained about who and what I represent. We'll get to that, I assure you, but it should be plainly obvious. Have you figured it out yet? I have. I know who I am. I know what I can do. I am whatever I want to be, I do whatever I want to do, and I suffer the repercussions of whichever decisions I make. Come Savage, I know we're going to draw irons against each other again, I know it'll be brutal, trying to scare you off now would just be futile. That doesn't change the fact I'm going to beat on you 'til you're limp and twisted up like a wet spaghetti noodle. You think you have the answers but I just changed the questions. You want to out think me? This isn't a chess match, kid. This is blood sport. You have something made of gold around your waist, and I'm coming to take it. You can't think four steps ahead when it's only two simple fucking steps I need to take, beat your ass, pin your ass. Step three is walk back to the locker room empty handed, step four is acceptance.

Bobby holds up the pulpy remains of the guava.

So, now that I've given you some education, let's go ahead and get real. If you were as clever as you claim to be, if you have even a fraction of the intellect you posture yourself as having, you would NOT have let Fury draft up an entire squad of B.O.B. Heh, I bet you're probably trying to come up with some nonsense about how evil B.O.B. is right now, about how you need to prevent B.O.B. from doing this or that, and why? What self-righteous pedestal have you placed yourself on, and moreover, how much are you distracting yourself with it? This, Corey, our match, is about you and me. Us. Nobody else is a part of it. It comes down to two people in the ring vying for the Television Championship. Now, I'm pretty sure you've distracted yourself by trying to cook up some stipulation that will make it more difficult for me to win. Well, that's two things on your mind besides the big nasty monster I be that you'll see on Saturday Night. Shit, add in the thoughts you have of Alias's taught buttocks. Maybe you'll bring up your grocery list for us to see you've been eating healthy. None of that is my concern. Bring whatever you want. I'm ready for one thing. You. It didn't take long for me to get there mentally, no, but then you're just not as quick as I am, because you delude yourself. Spread yourself like you would for Alias. Like you did for Shane back in the day. Ultimately, you'll be fucked, and I guess I'm the dick in this situation. It'll be like your first time all over again, you on the ground just lying there and bleeding, wondering what just hit you.

The screen fades to black.

[Image: DtUCPfZ.png]
Edit Hate Post Like Post
[-] The following 12 users Like Prof. Bobby Bourbon's post:
"Loverboy" Vinnie Lane (07-10-2021), (Gravy_Xtreme_5000) (07-12-2021), ALIAS (07-09-2021), Atara Raven (07-10-2021), Corey Smith (07-10-2021), Derrick Diamond (07-10-2021), Doctor Louis D'Ville (07-09-2021), Dolly Waters (07-10-2021), Miss Fury (07-09-2021), Thaddeus Duke (07-10-2021), Theo Pryce (07-10-2021), Thunder Knuckles™ (07-09-2021)




Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)