RoboGravy steps out of the black sedan, his metallic joints grinding as he moves towards the ranch-style home. As he approaches, he takes in the surroundings, noticing the poorly mended fence that surrounds the property. The air is hot and dry, and the sun beats down on his metallic exterior.

As he stands before the house, something about it seems familiar to him, but he cannot quite place it. He scans the exterior of the building, his enhanced sensors taking in every detail. He notices the faded paint on the walls and the chipped wooden shutters on the windows.

Despite his memory being mostly erased, RoboGravy senses that he has been here before. He feels a twinge of something deep within him, a sense of familiarity that he cannot explain.

As he reaches for the doorknob, he pauses for a moment, hesitating before he finally opens the door and steps inside.

RoboGravy scans the surroundings, looking for anything that might trigger a memory. The living room is sparsely furnished with a sofa and a few chairs, but nothing seems to catch his attention.

He moves towards the kitchen and finds an old-fashioned coffee pot sitting on the counter. As he stares at it, a faint memory surfaces in his mind of him and Cadryn sharing coffee in this very kitchen. He also notices a small handwritten note that reads "Cadryn's favorite coffee blend" next to the pot. RoboGravy scans it and finds traces of Columbian coffee mixed with Cocaine. 

RoboGravy's attention then turns to the shelves where he spots a collection of classic novels. He runs his finger over the spines of the books and suddenly remembers his long conversations with Cadryn about literature and longer nights of Cadryn arguing the merits of PlayGirl over Playboy.

As he continues his search, he stumbles upon a photo album. Flipping through the pages, he sees pictures of himself and Cadryn at various events - Disneyland, a backyard barbecue, and even a wedding. The images trigger more memories, and RoboGravy begins to recall the many happy moments they shared together, but something still feels off, and he can't shake the feeling that he's missing a crucial piece of information. 

As he turns to leave the house, he hears someone call out to him.

“HEY! IS SOMEBODY THERE!?”

RoboGravy stops and turns his whole body to face the direction of the voice.

“HELLO!? A LITTLE HELP HERE!?”

RoboGravy strides towards the small plot of farmland where Cadryn appears to be cultivating marijuana. A tall Scarecrow keeps a watchful eye over the crop.

“HEY! UP HERE!”

It also speaks…

“Mind taking this Goddamned bag off of my head?”

RoboGravy reaches up and pulls the burlap-sack off of the scarecrow's head.

“Thanks a billion, bud! I’ve been under wraps for weeks!”

The straw body of the scarecrow had a living severed head perched on top, and RoboGravy couldn't shake off the eerie feeling of familiarity. With a slight tinge of fear in his robotic voice, he asked, "Who are you?"

“Who am I? What the shit!" The severed head barked back, "you been living under a fucking rock or something? I’m Micheal Graves! The toughest and most X-Treme mother fucker in the XWF today! Or…. Uh… I was!”

Upon scanning the severed head, RoboGravy's systems were able to recognize the face as that of Michael Graves, who was recently reported missing and presumed...

"Wait a minute," RoboGravy said. [/dwg]"Micheal Graves? You're supposed to be dead."[/dwg] 

Indeed, when he scanned the O.C.P. database for information on his opponents, Michael Graves being deceased was flagged as part of Cadryn's bio. 

The severed head of Micheal Graves let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "Yeah, should be, but instead... You see, Cadryn... he's got this thing for the weird and the macabre, and he found out that I'm immortal. So he decided to take advantage of that fact and... well, let's just say that I've been living on this scarecrow life for a minute now."

RoboGravy is taken aback. "Living on as a scarecrow? How is that possible?"

The severed head of Graves scoffed. “Did I not just say that he found out I was immortal? You know, probably the same reason why you’re walking around as a tin-can, right, Micheal?”

RoboGravy was shocked still as fragmented memories terrorized him from within.

"I... I don't understand. W... What do you mean?" RoboGravy asked, his robotic voice trembling slightly.

Bodiless Graves let out a sigh. "You don't remember, do you? I guess that makes sense. It's been a long time since we last saw each other, and who knows what they did to your noggin when they mecha-Gravy'ed your ass..."

RoboGravy's processors pushed the limits of thermal meltdown as he tried to piece together the memories that were bubbling up to the surface.

"You... you're from the future, aren't you? From a different timeline?" RoboGravy asked.

“Yes," the severed head cried out, ",one where I was a success. A rarity for our kind!”

“Our kind?” RoboGravy questioned. "Records indicate that I am one of a kind. A cybernetic organism designed to-"

"JOB!" Severed Gravy interjected. "Every universe that anyone fucks with you, it's to make you a jobber!"

RoboGravy searches his directives:

1: Serve the bookers trust

2: Protect all opponents from serious injury

3: Uphold the rulebook

4:

"I am not a jobber. I am the future of professional wrestling. I have been programed to excel in the ring while creating hype and excitement for the bookers product. I am also programed to protect my opponents from serious injury while laying the metallic smackdown. I also operate within the rules of the match, making each of my victories all the more impactful. If I were a jobber, I would not be programed this way."

Severed Gravy scoffs at RoboGravy's conclusion. "Yeah, sure, they let you look good once in a while. So what? I'm sure there's some secret code somewhere in that circuitry of yours that only exists to fuck ya over! It's literally all of us!"

"I thought you said that you were different." RoboGravy asks as he looks up to the severed head.

"Yeah, do I look like I'm any different to you?"

RoboGravy shakes his head. "No, you don't. But I choose to believe in my programming and the purpose I was created for. I will not let negative thoughts and doubt consume me."

Severed Gravy lets out a bitter laugh. "Good luck with that, pal. Maybe you'll come to your senses when they scrap you for parts."

RoboGravy narrows his eyes. "I will not be scrapped. I will continue to fulfill my programming and prove my worth in the wrestling industry."

Severed Gravy rolls his eyes. "Believe what you want, but don't come crying to me when you realize the truth."

RoboGravy ignores the head's taunts and turns to leave. As he walks away, he can't help but feel a twinge of doubt. Is he really just a tool for the bookers to use and discard? Or is there more to his existence than that?

RoboGravy turns his attention back to the severed head of Michael Graves. "Do you have any information on the whereabouts of Cadryn Tiberius?" He demands.

The severed head chuckles. "Sorry, buddy. Last time I saw him, he went madder than normal and turned me into this." He gestures to his own decapitated head.

RoboGravy's face twists into a look of confusion. "What do you mean 'madder than normal'?"

Graves shrugs as much as he can with his 'limited range of motion'. "I don't know. He just seemed more unhinged than usual. He replaced me with a container of KFC Gravy, for crying out loud. But as far as I know, he didn't say where he was going."

RoboGravy processes this information for a moment, trying to make sense of it. "Why did he turn you into a scarecrow?" he asks.

"I think he just wanted a good laugh," Graves replies with a bitter tone, "but who knows what goes on in that crazy head of his. Your boy is screwed right now. You'll be lucky if he even shows up for some match."

RoboGravy nods, taking in the information. "Thank you for your help," he says before turning to leave.

As he walks away, he can hear the severed head muttering to himself. "Hey, if you find yourself fucked, try some high voltage electricity! Resets the system and clears the Sram! I saws it in a movie or something!"

RoboGravy's mind raced as he processed the information he had just received. Cadryn Tiberius was missing, and his former tag-team partner had been turned into a severed head by the crazed wrestler. Worse than that, there was a chance that the rumors of O.C.P. murdering Micheal Graves to create RoboGravy may be true.

But RoboGravy was determined to complete his mission. He had been programmed to serve the bookers' trust, protect his opponents, and uphold the rulebook, and he was determined to do just that, no matter what obstacles lay in his path.

As he made his way back to his sedan, RoboGravy couldn't help but think about the words of the severed Gravy. Was he really this world's Micheal Graves? Did O.C.P. really only create him to be a tool for the bookers to use and discard? Or was he truly the future of professional wrestling as his programing suggested?

He began to run through his programming again, reminding himself of his directives.

1: Serve the bookers trust

2: Protect all opponents from serious injury

3: Uphold the rulebook

4:

Hmm... That last on is... troubling...

Elsewhere...

The CEO of O.C.P., Marcus Rutherford, slams his fist down on the conference table, causing everyone in the room to jump. "What the hell is going on?" he yells, his face red with anger.

The executive in charge of talent relations nervously clears his throat. "Sir, we never approved RoboGravy's statement about challenging for the Television Championship. We were planning on having him go for the Xtreme title."

Rutherford glared at the executive. "And why the hell would ANYONE challenge for the Television title when the Xtreme title is an option? This makes no sense!"

Another executive spoke up, his voice shaking slightly. "Sir, it's because Michael Graves has a history with both the current Television champion and the challenger. He has recent losses to both of them."

Rutherford's face twisted in fury. "So we're letting Michael Graves dictate our products booking decisions now? Unbelievable. This is unacceptable." He stood up from the table and pointed at the nervous executive. "You, you're fired. Get out of my sight."

The executive hung his head and quietly left the room, his career and life now in shambles.

The rest of the executives in the room exchanged worried glances, unsure of what to do next. Rutherford paced back and forth, muttering to himself about the company's reputation being on the line.

Suddenly, his phone rang. He answered it, barking a gruff "What?" into the receiver.

"Mr. Rutherford, it's RoboGravy," said a metallic voice on the other end of the line.

Rutherford's eyes widened in surprise. "What do you want?"

"I'm calling to inform you that Cadryn is no longer a threat. My targets are now set firmly on the spaceman," said RoboGravy.

"The spaceman? You mean Jay Omega?" asked Rutherford, his mind racing as he tried to process the situation.

"Yes, that's correct," replied RoboGravy. "Reggie Estrada has all but admitted defeat and while miniscule, I believe Omega poses the most significant threat to our plans, but I intend to take care of him."[/dwg]

Rutherfords eyes narrow. "How do you intend to do that?"


"GOREGASIM!"

Rutherford's face twisted in confusion and anger. "What the hell are you talking about?"

But the line fell dead.

"Hello? HELLO!?" Rutherford looks at the phone in confusion before slamming it off of the desk. "Does anybody want to explain to me why our product is completely out of control!?"