We watch Bobby Bourbon walk into XWF Headquarters in Chicago. He's alone, the rest of BOB not on hand for this. He calmly walks towards an elevator, gently waving at others as he walks by, stopping to take pictures with visitors. Tourists the world over like to visit the XWF HQ ever since they opened up tours to the public and fans, for a tidy fee, no less. On entering the elevator, he checks his phone, as one does one they're alone in a very public place. He scrolls through twitter, spotting where Dolly is advocating they drink her fun marketing scheme, and pauses, recalling the time Dolly discussed the Divine Timing.

~~~~~

You want me to what?

Shut up and drink it! It's Dolly's Divine Timing.

Is it just Kentucky moonshine or some shit?

Dolly smirks. Bobby looks at TK and Charlie, both vehemently shaking their heads 'no'. Bobby holds up the mason jar and takes a swig. His heart skips a beat, he blinks, then coughs.

Woah, Jesus, Dolly's Divine Timing, I'm pretty sure I just drank DDT the insecticide. It's a bit of an acquired taste, I feel, but on the upside, I can't feel my fucking face right now.

~~~~~

Bobby beams, thinking of his goofy friends. He keeps scrolling, and sees that TK has retweeted something. Bobby gives pause and thinks of his fellow No Good Bastard.

~~~~~

You want me to what?

We need you to go ahead and Bobbybomb Charlie after all.

Bobby looks puzzled. It's 2020, sometime in the late summer.

Wait, I thought Ozzy said...

Well, fuck what Ozzy says. The kid is too unstable, too loud, won't help us in the long term.

Uh, alright...

~~~~~

Bobby thought of that exchange, which seems like a lifetime ago in the world of wrestling. That led to lighting a fire under Charlie's ass to go after Sarah Lacklan, that fateful snub, when Miss Fury handed down the order that the Brotherhood of Baddies at the time didn't need nor want the services of Charlie Nickles. Sure, Charlie's a slob, downright sloppy at times, in somewhere deep in his own head not noticing the world around him sometimes, but, well, look at him now. The tracks on his arms don't tell the whole story, right? He's here in the now, being a good man. Bobby puts his phone away, considering how Charlie isn't even allowed on Twitter. He stops and recollects.

~~~~~

You want me to what?

Come to OCW and defend the Tag Titles with me and TK, bro!

Woah, hold up, I'm taking time off man, I had to back out of a ton of shit with the XWF, and then TK said he needed a favor in IIW, and now you want me to come to OCW? I dunno, I feel kind of shitty.

Oh, it's all good, bro, it'll be Freebird rules!

It was, in fact, Freebird rules. Bobby defended the tag team championships in that company almost every time with a different partner almost every time it was defended. Until, that is, Charlie double booked himself defending there and partnering with Dolly.

~~~~~

The elevator chimes, and the doors slide open. Bobby walks out of the empty elevator car and down a hall into a nondescript waiting room. He looks around, seeing no one, and then steps towards a window, looking out into the cityscape surrounding him. Bobby swiftly turns, directly looking at the person who just entered. She greets Bobby.

Hello, Mr. Bourbon! I'm Genevieve Trot, I was hired by your company to help you with some image consulting work!

Well, hello, Genevieve, and I don't know what that actually means.

Bobby pleasantly smiles at Genevieve, his blunt statement made all the much more blunt by his placid demeanor.

Well, let's see, you know how there's some people in your business who have, I don't know, a more robust personality about themselves?

Bobby swiftly nods.

Oh, absolutely, like how Noah Jackson claims to be a cunt, but he's really a dick!

Genevieve slowly shakes her head.

Okay, kind of.

Oh, and I love The Blue Tango!

That's not exactly what I mean, Bobby. Look at more successful stars today, who you see falter, and fail.

I've failed, and not for lack of trying!

Not, just in the ring, Bobby, but, I mean, seeing a scope of someone outside of it, seeing their ambitions, their dreams, their personal agonies even, it's something the fans crave!

Huh.

Bobby, still quizzical, sits in a chair in this well lit office space. Genevieve does as well.

I always kind of thought the fans were here for the wrestling and to see me powerbomb a bunch of people in the ring so they could scream my name.

Well, that's fair, they are, Bobby, but there has to be more than just that to who you are, right?

Sure. But, I dunno, I was brought into this meeting. I mean, what do you need from me?

I don't know that we need anything at this time, Bobby.

Bobby looks exasperated. He could be doing anything right now. Getting lost in a grocery store looking for some obscure strain of legume. Joining a bowling league. Tending a garden. Anything but sitting in an office, discussing business.

You want me to what?

Genevieve senses Bobby's loss of exactly to do.

No, what is it that you want, Bobby?

Bobby gives pause, and stares out the window.