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X-treme Wrestling Federation » Warfare Boards » Warfare RP Board
Always A Mess To Clean
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
10-24-2023, 10:35 PM



We see Bobby Bourbon. Not some puppet he built, but a very sunburned Bobby Bourbon, fresh from Barbados. He looks less than pleased as he footslogs in through the front doors of his Dojo. Genevieve Tote, Bobby’s image consultant, approaches.

Mr. Bourbon, I apologize, this is beyond my scope.

Miss Tote, I do not hold you responsible. That puppet was high tech shit, how was I supposed to know an ancient radio signal from deep space would come in contact with it and pull a Maximum Overdrive.

A what, Mr. Bourbon?

It’s a Stephen King book, not his best, but the movie had a kick ass soundtrack.

Miss Tote furrows her brow.

Nevermind. It’s not important right now. So you’re telling me the sub-basements have been compromised?

Genevieve nods silently. She and Bobby walk through the crowded Dojo, most of the people unawares of the wild malarkey taking place beneath their feet.

Yes, Mr. Bourbon. The only option I had was a complete sterilization of the sub basements.

That’s last resort, Miss Tote, absolutely last resort. You were right to call me.

How was Barbados?

It was nice.

Do you want to talk about it?

No.

No, I don’t. It was my vacation time. Brunch, beaches, nothing fancy.


No intrigue whatsoever?

Nope. I don’t take my work with me on vacation.

Have my stocks taken a hit?


From the puppet and the Minis being lost or from the secret monster you have?

…yes.

Well, you’re still at twelve cents a share.

Okay. Good. That’s good.

Has anyone called about the missing Minis?


Oddly, no they haven’t, Mr. Bourbon. Also don’t say they’re not a big enough problem, test audiences said that would be dumb.

Bobby bites his lower lip.

…I really want to.

I understand, Mr. Bourbon, but no time for cute wordplay. You have a thing in the basement.

Well, I know how to deal with it.

Bobby and Genevieve pass the elevator that the puppet had led the Minis to earlier along a rather bland hallway. They approach a door at the very end. Bobby opens it, and we see a dimly lit stairwell headed down into the depths of his secret lab. Bobby steps through the door, and it closes behind him as Genevieve stands in the hall. A half second later, Bobby opens the door.

You’re not coming?

Mr. Bourbon, why do I want to go down there? I almost purged your labs out of terror!

Yeah, well, Miss Tote, you’ll be fine. What are you so scared of?

Whatever the hell is down there, Mr. Bourbon!

You’ll be okay. I know what I’m doing.

Do you?

I hope so. C’mon.

Genevieve reluctantly enters the stairwell with Bobby. They begin their trek down the stairs. They come to the first sub-level, marked ‘Animal Testing’.

Mr. Bourbon, the PETA people were unhappy about this, but most people think PETA is pretty annoying since they’re anti-ham. You’re trending well with hearty breakfast enthusiasts and BBQ fanatics.

As I damn well should be, everybody likes food!

Bobby and Genevieve continue down the stairs further. The lights flicker, and Genevieve lets out a high pitched squeak which could be best described as adorable.

Heh, what was that noise?

Aren’t you scared?

No, I made all this. The monster didn’t kill Dr. Frankenstein.

Not literally…

Bobby and Genevieve pass a door marked ‘Morgue’.

That creeps me out, Mr. Bourbon.

Why? A morgue’s a pretty peaceful place, nothing is moving around in there.

Are you sure?

I’m certain.

Are there, um, any people in there, Mr. Bourbon?

No. I feel keeping human bodies wouldn’t do well for my stocks.

Well, you’re trending well with the goth crowd for having one.

Awesome. Nerds are going to think buying from BourbCo will get them in with a hot goth girl, and really only like one out of every fifty goth girls are actually hot.

Bobby and Genevieve continue their descent, passing a door marked ‘Tissue Reanimation Research’.

Okay, Mr. Bourbon, for some reason, the people at Kleenex want you to do a spot for them.

What?

Yeah, since the word ‘tissue’ is used, they want to capitalize.

Miss Tote, I was taking dead squirrels and giving them a bit of the ol’ razzle dazzle down here, that has nothing to do with a runny nose.

Yeah, well, it’s still Kleenex.

I’ll think about it. Has Charmin made a bid?

They low balled you.

Hrmm.

As Bobby and Genevieve continue to walk down stairs, they pass a door that reads ‘Waste Disposal’.

Why is this down here, Mr. Bourbon? Don’t you have dumpsters upstairs on the street level?

Well of course I do, Miss Tote, but not everything that happens down here belongs in a dumpster. A dumpster diver once went rooting through one of the bins upstairs.

…and?

And what, Miss Tote?

What happened?

Well, he found something he shouldn’t have.

And what, did he turn into a centaur, or get gravity powers?

Nope.

Lymphoma.

Just plain old cancer.


Oh.

That’s, um, dour.


Yeah, well it’s not all fantastical hobnobbery.

Bobby snickers.

Mr. Bourbon?

Okay, you got me, Miss Tote. He turned into a living turducken for a weekend until he molted.

Miss Tote takes note, rolling her eyes.

Okay. Good. Well, you’re trending with the people at Purdue Chicken but poorly with Waste Management.

Eh, garbage in, garbage out.

Bobby and Miss Tote approach the next door. The stairwell continues on, but both stop at a door marked ‘Containment Zone’.

Okay, Mr. Bourbon, this name is a little curious.

Look, I needed someplace to store dangerous stuff, and I already have floors that are designated ‘Hazardous Isolation’, ‘Ongoing Research’, and ‘Rainy Day Activities’, I needed another name and I’m sorry if it got a little lazy.

Well, Mr. Bourbon, the people at SC Johnson love it for Ziploc and you’re trending very highly with the Tupperware people.

Oh. So it’s a good thing I got lazy, then.

A loud crash is heard behind the door. Genevieve utters the same petite eek as before. Bobby chuckles again.

That’s never going to get old to me.

I’m not going in there, Mr. Bourbon.

Miss Tote, you have nothing to worry about.

Bobby opens the door. Inside we see a familiar form as Miss Tote holds her nose due to the stench. Bobby recoils slightly before narrowing his gaze at the 6’3”, 265 lb. pile of dung.

[Image: 00003.jpg]

The pile of poop is cradling the now lifeless and still puppet of Bobby Bourbon in its arms, lamenting it.

🎶Hello my baby, hello my honey🎶
🎶Hello my ragtime gal🎶

Mr. Bourbon, I’m both offended and confused.

Well, that’s Charlie for you.

Why do you have a clone of Charlie made out of feces?

Well, I didn’t think anybody would notice the difference.

Okay, where did you get the feces?

Animals.

Okay, now, why is it singing?

Well, when I designed the thing it was when Charlie was going on a bit of a sabbatical, as he does from time to time, but when I programmed it to sound smarter than Charlie, the only thing it would spout is public domain.

🎶The bear went over the mountain🎶
🎶The bear went over the mountain🎶
🎶The bear went over the mountain🎶
🎶To see what he could see🎶

So what you’re saying is that this Charlie has no original thought whatsoever?

Again, I didn’t think anybody would notice the difference.

Miss Tote takes note.

Mr. Bourbon, he does intend to get another Universal Championship shot after facing you.

As soon as the words 'Universal Championship' escape Genevieve's lips, Poop Charlie gets excited.

Again, been there, done that, and both me and TK came back into the XWF and got into the heads of the champ already this year. I don’t think he’s doing that, but he’s trying?

Is he trying hard?

Yep.

Total tryhard.


🎶For he’s a jolly good fellow🎶
🎶For he’s a jolly good fellow🎶

Bobby interrupts the singing.

That’s the same as the Bear Went Over The Mountain!

Poop Charlie stops, clearing its throat. He looks at Bobby.

🎶She’ll be coming ‘round the mountain when she comes🎶
🎶She’ll be coming ‘round the mountain when she comes🎶

Better.

Poop Charlie nods.

If you want a battle of wits I’ll leave you seething and snarlin’
I’ve got you hook, line, and sinker, fresh catch, like a marlin
What you got is deader than last decade, just a corpse like George Carlin

🎶Skip to Lou, my darlin’!🎶

Bobby pauses, mid bars.

Go take a lap.

Poop Charlie, looking defeated, drops the now filthy puppet and starts to run in circles in the room. The rest of the Minis come out from their hiding spots. They’re fine.

Don’t act like you were even worried about them.

I thought you were TK’s kin with an uglier face
But instead of Charlie Knuckles all we got was a disgrace
You had reasons to join B.O.B.? I thought you just took up space
You’re not on our level, at your best you’re only second place.

You’re a benchwarmer, straight up riding the pine
Can’t stand and show backbone because that requires a spine
Hitch a ride on our coattails and think you’ll be fine?
You need help, Charlie, but you’re done getting mine.

You can’t deny the authenticity of the style that I spit
I got the mind of a madman and this heart just won’t quit
Listen to this, Charlie, before you take off again and split
Close the door when you show your ass, nobody wants to hear your shit.


The Minis all look up at Bobby, hope shining in their eyes because they were out of trouble. Miss Tote transcribes everything Bobby says. Poop Charlie has terrible timing.

🎶Oh my darling, oh my darling🎶
🎶Oh my darling, Clementine🎶

We Bastards never look down their nose at another
Always ready to help and do some lifting and support each other
We gave you all the room you needed so you wouldn’t smother
You tied your own rope, go tell the Bastardly Father that you’re a shitty brother

Open your eyes, wake yourself from this dream
You don’t have enough brain cells to understand my every scheme
Go back to Triad float that shit down their stream
You’re not even a player here, and you do nothing for the team.

You have nothing to show me, no talent to vaunt
You’re not some hidden gem or a secret savant
You’re a baby, and spoiled, a Karen in a five-star restaurant
Raising all this fuss because ‘Bobby didn’t do what you want’.

I come hotter than Hell and I’m bringing the smoke
You taking yourself so seriously is honestly your only good joke
You’re stuttering, stammering, and sputtering again, Charlie, are you having a stroke?
Ch-ch-Charlie in an XWF ring mean’s he’s gonna ch-ch-ch-choke.



🎶Yankee Doodle went to town🎶
🎶A-Riding on a pony🎶

🎶…stuck his finger up his butt🎶
🎶Had sex with some baloney.
🎶

Poop Charlie starts to shake, and tremble, before turning into a pile of shit on the floor.

How did you…

I got creative, broke the public domain stuff, I built it in as an override so he’d lose his shit.

Ah.

The Minis all dance and frolic as they leave the Containment Zone, with Genevieve leading the way. Bobby stops and looks into the camera.

You’re not out of B.O.B., Charlie. We need someone to make the coffee around here.

Barney Green has rank.


Bobby points to the crap all over the floor in his lab.

Also, clean this up and try not to get too much on your dress.


[Image: newtngb.png?ex=661f68da&is=660cf3da&hm=6...9be1b4b4b&]
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