Cobwebs. Spiders crawling over decades of rust. Flashes of brown fur in the shadows… Long-abandoned assembly lines…

Flynn takes all these things in as he steps gently over the window sill, shards of glass sticking upwards a few inches above his leg… onto the abandoned building’s factory floor.

“Hmm.” He mutters as he lands gently. “Watch the shards, NK.”

“FEH, Mark Flynn! One need only attend to such matters as GAPS if one has less than catlike reflexes and the agility of a noble Pyongyang Black Swan!”

NK takes two steps back… And breaks into a sprint!

“WITNESS ME AS I ASTOUND Y-”

As NK sprints, his foot slips on a flat shard… The totalitarian attempts, like a cat in zero gravity, to twist his torso mid-slip…

Unfortunately, he ends up driving his face directly into the window sill…

His face bouncing off the sill’s edge, driving his ass over his head.

As he flips like a top… Landing with shards flat on his ass…

The Korean’s face winces in pain, his lips purse to suck in air…

A single tear rolls down his right eye.

“...Did you… Witness that… Mark Flynn?”

“Hmm?” Flynn turns his neck with the smallest possible rotation so he can just barely see his partner out of the corner of his eye. “You say something, NK?”

NK rises to his feet, because you can’t stamp your feet while on your ass.

“Mark Flynn! You missed my attem…” The Korean strokes his chin, before smiling.

“I mean, my SUCCESSFUL acrobatics! It was thoroughly impressive! A flawless double-rotation forward roll!”

Flynn walks forward and disinterestedly pats his partner on the back. “Well, I missed it, so I’ll take your word for it.”

NK beams with pride, and starts to walk forward…

“OWWWWWW!”

Just as Flynn pinches a particularly large shard of glass protruding out of his right buttock.

As NK looks back, another tear-a-brewing, Flynn grins holding up the shard.

“Wonder how that got there during your Flawless Double-Rotation Forward Roll.”

NK irritatedly smacks Flynn’s hand, the shard shatters on the floor.

“Mark Flynn! While you dilly-and-dally with your glass-related mischief, we persist in NOT discovering the whereabouts of Professor Ned Kaye.”

Flynn’s face straightens somberly. “And until we find him, we don’t have my Maru.”

NK points a finger decisively towards the air. “Never fear, Mark Flynn! In the darkness, the bravery of a True Korean shines as the sun, like a beacon towards truth! Justice! And the Glorious Leader’s w-”

CLAAAAAAAAANG-clatter-clatter-clatter.

Suddenly, there’s a clatter in a room to the right… Like a Jenga tower of pipes and concrete collapsing… Flynn spins toward the sound…

And falling out of the door is the still-enamored FXW bloodhound, the United Korean Peace Officer.

“Oh, there’s UK.”

UK does not regard his travelling companions, instead grabbing a brick sitting off the floor and charging back into the room…

“Huh. We should probably do something about that, huh?” Flynn ponders aloud.

He spins… And no one is there.

“NK?”

Flynn looks left and looks right.

He sees no one.

Except, his eyes catch, somewhat out of place…

A cardboard box.

Labelled ‘INVENTORY: NON-SUSPICIOUS. NO NEED TO OPEN OR INSPECT.’

Flynn sighs. And knocks on the top of the box.

“NK, get outta there.”

“Attention, all local apparitions and spirits! This box has no handsome Koreans inside of it! It is instead full of… American flags! Fireworks! And student loan debt!”

“Student loan debt doesn’t talk, NK.”

“You are not familiar with the latest advances in student loans, Mark Flynn! These are equipped with smart technology! Say your name and I’ll tell you the day you’ll finish paying off your debts!”

…Flynn sighs, reaching a hand into that box.

“NK, NOW! Kaye isn’t in that box!”

“Can we be so sure Mark Flynn? I shall remain in here and make sure!”

Flynn grits his teeth.

“God dammit! First, you lose my code? THEN, you blow up my simulator? Now, you wanna sit in a box?”

Flynn’s face contorts in frustration…

BAM! Flynn’s foot stomping down on the top!

“FINE. You stay here and piss yourself, scared of your own shadow! I’m snapping Ned Kaye’s spine in half and grabbing the Maru.”

Flynn storms off towards deeper into the facility…

…

After a few moments, the dent in the box pops back out.

“...I am NOT afraid of my own shadow, Mark Flynn!”

NK’s head peeks narrowly out of the crevice.

“Did you hear me, Mark Flynn? I said I am NOT Af- AHHHHHH!” NK screams, suddenly noticing a looming dark over him.

…

However, the source of that shadow is not himself. Instead, the United Korean itching his arm, hovering over the box.

“...Hey… Uh… Somethin’... Uh…. Need somethin’ heavy again.”

NK stands up from the box… Looking upset.

“...You don’t suppose Mark Flynn blames me in some way for our recent misfortunes, eh, Comrade UK? Simply because I geniusly attempted to plug our adversary’s flash drive into his computer?”

UK scratches his neck.

“...Yeah, yeah. No. I… I ‘unno. Yeah.”

NK tightens his fists, invigorated by determination.

“Then, as incorrectly placed as Mark Flynn’s blame is…”

NK wraps his arm around UK’s shoulder. “We TWO shall delve deep into this facility and recover the Kenta Kobayashi Maru! Then, Mark Flynn will no longer require an apology from me and shall want to be best friends!”

…

“Which I shall take under consideration!”

***

Stomping feet… Echoing deeper and deeper into the halls. On the walls, a number of security cameras…

Slowly transitioning towards Flynn, as he goes further and further…

He reaches the end of the hall and his grumblings slowly quiet.

As Flynn pushes open the door, he sees a plain white-walled room…

A door ahead… A door to the left… And a door to the right…

Flynn eyes each option.

“Hmm.”

…

“Fuck it.”

Flynn moves for the door to the right.

He side-steps o-

The moment he leaves the entryway, a metal slab opens from the floor in front of the door.

…

Flynn strides forward, reaching carefully with a fist.

He knocks.

Solid.

He turns around…

The moment he does, the door to the left is identically sealed shut.

Before Flynn can even sigh, the door he came from seals the same way…

…

“Hmm. Well, fell into the trap.”

From the final door…

…A spotlight shines.

“Nothing to do now except…”

Flynn walks forward.

“Break it apart from the inside.”

***

Thump… Thump… Thump.

The War Room.

NK sits behind the teacher’s desk, his feet perched on the tabletop, casually reading the Pyongyang Times.

Thump… Thump… Thump.

The camera pans.

In the corner of the classroom, Flynn is standing.

Bashing his head against the wall.

…

He stops.

“I have been putting on the best fucking matches of my wrestling career.”

Flynn spins and looks furiously down the barrel of the camera, clenching his fist.

“Vaughn-Flynn Match 3. Can the former Uni Champ and new SuperContinental Champ get the monkey off his back and beat the guy whose had his number his entire XWF career?”

“It was a fucking CHESS MATCH! Of Wrestling! Of Rule-Bending! My finest performance TO-DATE.”

Flynn releases his fist… Then with the same right hand, squeezes his temples in frustration.

“And what do I get for outplaying a former Universal Champion? For putting out another five-star performance only I’m capable of?”

…

“An ad break.”

Quote:Calypso howls out in pain as Mark Flynn goes to make the cover! But the referee never drops down to count….because the lights in the Staples Center begin flickering until they go completely out. The darkness confuses the wrestlers and the referee. Over the loudspeakers in the area, you hear “This advertisement has been paid for by BOB.”

“THEO PRYCE SOLD A FUCKING FIVE MINUTE AD BREAK.”

BAM!

Flynn smashes his fist against the wall. Bits of dust shift downwards off the ceiling…

NK licks his index finger’s tip and turns the page.

“Capitalism in a nutshell, Mark Flynn. Profit at the expense of the general public. The poor XWF Universe was forced to listen to five full minutes of The Bastards’ barrage of bitter, baffling blather.”

“I know! The Bastards might have set a Guinness World record for most bullshit in a single ad break.”

Quote:TK looks over at Bobby.

TK: How many times have they beat you, Bobby?

Bobby shrugs not nonchalantly.

BB: Does it matter?

Both of Them No Good Bastards look back into the camera.

TK: You’re right because they only beat us once.

“Except… Y’know. WarGames.”

“Team B.o.B. placed third. Team FUCKTHAD placed first.”

“Bobby and TK failed to make a dent in the finals. While we played supporting roles on the most dominant WarGames Team in XWF History.”

“And then, of course, winning the tag belts off of you… Two months later.”

“So, that’s two wins over the Bobby & TK Bastards.”

“If you’re worried that we’re 10 seconds into this ad and they’re already spewing bullshit… You should be. The next correction is THE NEXT SENTENCE.”

Quote:TK: Boys, you killed off our division and haven’t defended those titles in forty-seven days.

BB: Could you imagine Us No Good Bastards had done that?

TK: Fuck no, I couldn’t…

…NK sighs. He retracts his boots from the tabletop, standing from the desk.

He retrieves from his front pocket his little black notebook… And turns to a page with exact precision.

“On July 7th, the Bastards defended the tag team championships against EXP… Their next defense was September 11th in a Triple-Threat Tag Match.”

“Sixty-six days with no defense.”

NK snaps his book shut, as Flynn walks up, resting his arm on NK’s shoulder.

“So… That was a fucking lie.”

Flynn shakes his head.

“Moreover, you dumb fucks. You can’t complain about us killing the tag division… WHEN YOU’RE ALSO IN THE TAG DIVISION!”

“Not only that, Mark Flynn! Of our six tag-team matches since winning back our championships, various configurations of Bastards, No-Good and otherwise, have made up ONE-THIRD of our matches!”

“We put the belts on the line against Bobby and Charlie… And they couldn’t get the job done.”

NK taps Flynn’s on the shoulder, sucking in air.

“Ahh, but Mark Flynn! That match featured an interruption from Comrade Alias! Charlie Nickles was distracted!”

Flynn sneers dismissively.

“You know who else got their match interrupted? WE DID. BY A FIVE MINUTE AD BREAK. Against a former Universal champion. And WE found a way to get the job done.”

Flynn and NK point towards the camera in unison.

“If you buffoons can’t focus on your job when distractions lurk.”

“Either get a Ritalin prescription or suck it up. Cuz you all… LACK… FOCUS.”

“Feel free to verify our calculations! Since winning the titles, a mere four months ago, we’ve beaten The Waters’ Family once and INVAUGHNCIBLE, The Bastards twice and Double Trouble twice!”

“Speaking of which, whatever happened to Jay Omega?”

“I believe we have a clip?”



“And, just a point that would go without saying if the Bastards had more IQ points than members…”

“Your point about us being paper champions… MIGHT have some conceptual merit.”

“If we weren’t winning EVERY SINGLE MATCH that we fought in.”

“Bobby and Barney? The Waters’? InVAUGHNcible?”

“New teams that needed to prove their mettle to prove they deserved a title shot.”

“And they couldn’t prove it.”

“So they didn’t deserve it.”

“We didn’t kill the tag division by being the most dominant duo to ever lace boots.”

“YOU killed the tag division by leaping to the front of the challenging line every month… And coming up short.”

“Every.”

“Single.”

“Time.”

“The Bastards complaining about the tag division being dead is like the housecat complaining that its home is infested with mice!”

“Stupid fucking cat, YOU’RE THE ONE THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO HANDLE THAT.”

“Or, to put it in a way that someone of the Bastards’ intellect level could handle…”



NK taps his nose mischievously.

“Of course, Mark Flynn, for the Bastards, perhaps the fourth time is the charm!”

“Fifth time if you count WarGames.”

“We have already beaten Bobby Bourbon and Thunder Knuckles twice…”

“Bobby Bourbon and Barney Green once…”

“And ol’ Bourbsy and Char-Char last month, with the titles on the line.”

NK strokes his chin.

“Perhaps Charlie Nickles believes it takes two attempts?”

“Worked that way with him versus Alias, OH WAIT, NO IT DIDN’T!”

Flynn and NK burst out laughing and slap a low-five.

“Not only ALL of what we’ve made clear. NOT ONLY the mountain of evidence that the Bastards are INCAPABLE of striking us down on their best day and our worst…”

“Then they go and substitute former Uni Champ, current King of the XWF Bobby Bourbon…”

“With Marf Swaysons.”

“FUCKIN’ MARF.”

“Marf ‘Zero Successful X-Treme Title Defenses’ Swaysons…”

“You Bastards wanna talk about PAPER CHAMPIONS?!? Your boy held the X-Treme Title for five weeks by holding his breath and hoping no one remembered his belt existed!”

“The Latina Submission Machina Maneuver, if I recall correctly.”

“I mean, for fuck’s sake, Bastards. You wasted money buying five minutes of ad time…”

“Spewing falsehoods that it took us less than three minutes to debunk.”

“In short…”

Flynn and NK give the camera four thumbs down.

“#FakeNews”

NK sighs.

“Although one thing confounds me still, Mark Flynn!”

“What is it, NK?”

“The Bastards claiming they can perform mathematics.”

Flynn’s usually stern face, breaks into an unexpected smile.

“Right. They fought six matches in their 208-day-reign and we fought six matches in 127 days.”

“And somehow we’re the paper champions?” NK scratches the top of his head. “Are these calculations done using faulty American calculators?”

Flynn snickers. “Nah, bud. Only faulty American brains. Bobby only learned to count past four so he could keep track of his chins. And TK is STILL the dumb one.”

Flynn and NK once more point in unison toward the camera.

“Bastards, we’re pretty sure you need to get sent back to remedial math…”

“Just like you need to get sent back to March 2021, when you were relevant.”

“But, let’s work on one problem at a time!”

“We left some problems that we hope will make learning math fun! Try them out! (Compare your answers to Mark Flynn’s to see if you got them right!)”







“Didja get ‘em all right?”

“We sincerely doubt it.”

“The same way when you thought you had a FRACTION of a SLIVER of a chance at the Tag Team Championships?”

“You were sorely mistaken.”

“Charlie Nickles?”

“MAAAAAAAAAAARF.”

“Your freakshow carnival…”

“Will be set ablaze.”

The pair cross arms.

“By Mark Flynn.”

“And the North Korean War Criminal.”