We see Bobby seated at his desk in his office, pointlessly staring at his phone and doddling around on it. By the looks of things, nothing important, and a creepshot shows he’s actually playing some dopey game. Stephanie Wilson, Bobby’s image consultant, enters the room.

Mr. Bourbon, hello!

Miss Wilson, what’s going on?

Well, I am well, thank you kindly, Mr. Bourbon. How’s Chevy?

He’s with Mark today.

Bobby’s brow furrows a bit as he says this, the sensation that his cloned North Korean War Son was with their other parent affecting him. He rolls his eyes and puts his phone down on the desk.

Let that no good layabout change a diaper or two.

I swear, Miss Wilson, I was out at the dog park with Chevy.

You took your baby to a dog park?

Miss Wilson looks somewhat concerned as Bobby looks back at her with bemusement.

What?

He’s like a month old, he doesn’t know the difference between a playground and a dog park, and plus he gets to meet dogs.

Anyway, we were out at the dog park, and the little guy needed a change, and while changing him, he managed to rocket a pee past me and onto a terrier.

Oh, um, how was the dog’s owner?

Terrierfied.

Bobby looks forlorn saying this, signaling he was not trying to be cute and feeling that such a term as “terrierfied” exists and is in the vernacular of all.

So much, Miss Wilson.

So much human waste produced by a human that that small!

It sounds like you needed the break, Mr. Bourbon.

Yeah, maybe, but now I don’t know what to do with myself.

I feel like an empty nester.

Huh.

Well, you aren’t one, Mr. Bourbon, I can assure you.

Speaking of which, since the First Blood Battle Royale is an open event, and many wrestling fans are watching, and considering the news that occurred recently involving the ownership of Wacky Wrestling Everyday, the super conservative Texas Athletic Commission is investigating participants.

Bobby smugly smirks.

Oh.

You mean the owner of the company who had a threesome and pooped on someone’s head?

Yes, Mr. Bourbon.

Right.

…and the XWF is supposed to be the filthy place to some marks.

Although I’m pretty sure whoever ran Wacky Wrestling Everyday was a huge XWF fan from a few years ago.

Huh.

Miss Wilson takes note on her tablet.

Oh, yeah.

Miss Wilson swipes away at her tablet before readdressing Bobby.

Well, Mr. Bourbon, I have a questionnaire that you need to answer and submit to the Texas Athletic Commission.

Okay.

Good.

First, have you ever pooped on someone’s head?

Not literally though I have shit all over Charlie Nickles over the past couple months.

Good.

Have you ever engaged in a threesome?

Well, no.

I did once set up a slide that people would side down without any pants on where they would land on my lap, bounce once, and then away, while I was in a daze and stuck in my Danny Sex persona to prove I had the most sex ever.

Miss Wilson’s eyes nearly bug out of her skull.

Okay…

..did you pay hush money to any of the people who went down your slide to be penetrated by you and walk away?

Oh hell no, I charged like twenty bucks a pop.

Okay.

So to be clear, you have never pooped on someone’s head while having a threesome and then paid hush money?

I don’t even know anyone who wants to have a threesome with me involved nor anyone who has any desire to watch me chuck a deuce on someone’s head.

No matter how much people seem to like it when I shit all over Charlie Nickles and the hack joke of a career he managed to choke away.

Miss Wilson slides the cover over her tablet.

Well, great!

You're officially cleared to compete, now what stuff are you going to do before your match?

Bobby again rolls his eyes, annoyed.

Oh, why do I gotta do 'stuff'?

Mr. Bourbon, we discussed this, in your promos you need to actually do a thing, you can't just smacktalk.

But I really just want to take my adopted clone son on some wacky adventure.

I know, Mr. Bourbon, you're a fairly awesome dad in that way, but you split custody with Mr. Flynn.

Right, classic blunder.

...

How's Isaac, or Melman, or...

Miss Wilson blinks slowly.

Do you mean Irwin?

Whatever his name is.

He's doing alright.

Cool.

Bobby's phone begins to ring. He picks it up from his desk and looks at the screen. Instantly, his churlish demeanor melts as he looks placidly at the glow in his palm. He swipes to answer the call.

Hello, my succubus.

Miss Wilson opens her tablet up.

Oh, I'm not too busy, I was about to, um, do the laundry or something, why, what's up?

...

Wait, what?

Hah.

Okay.

See you soon.

Bobby hangs up.

Was that Bouncy?

Bobby gives a slow pause, just seeming to relish in the mere mention of her name.

Yep.

Oh, when's the last time you saw her?

It's been since before the holidays.

So is she alright?

Yep.

I'm going to see her right now.

Oh, okay!

Miss Wilson closes her tablet.

I was going to put you on an expedition to the bottom of the sea to fight a giant sea monster or something.

What?

You mean like the Titan thing?

That's from six months ago, Miss Wilson, never!

We're better than that!

Bobby leaves his office.

=====



Seated in coach, because First Class is for suckers, we see Bobby, crammed between two other passengers neither getting a window nor aisle seat.

I’m not special.

I’m a C level hero.

All y’all need to know; I’m here for fun.

My fun is the mystery opponent.

See, I could take my name to any company, and shit, the Triad already boosted my face for me in ways I couldn’t.

I haven’t been enlisted.

I do fight in the XWF tho.

Bobby grins, his signature quintillion dollar smile.

I fucking love it here.

I mean, I was lucky, and I can not stress enough, lucky enough, to have beaten Mark Flynn and Doc all in one night.

Isaiah, eat your fucking heart out.

TK, D, I don’t want to saddle you with anything but what a wonderful D you can be, Crash, we barely talk but I still have respect and sorry you have to say you know me, but so do Jimmy Raven and Fuzz.

TK is wiser than I and you’re proof.

These days, though, I get what I deserve.

I killed B.O.B.

As for Mark FLynn..

He’s still…

…to this day..

absolutely a tag partner I have had.

Not the best.

Hah.

Not by a fucking longshot.

Thunder Motherfucking Knuckles.

Bro.

Seriously.

Get it back.

You should get the Universal Championship back.

You should go out and make people bleed until Theo can not deny you a chance to get it back.

Because that get back, bro.

It’s what got me ready. I got the tag belts again. I’m kind of dead inside because I worked with M…

Mommy.

Bobby snarles.

Mama Flynn, Papa Dock, y’all ain’t been parenting these days, and holy fuckballs, now we’re in the shit, THEY knock at the door.

Myself?

I’m striking down, as a knight of the XWF, the Mystery Competitor.

Flat out, that fucker isn’t as special as me.

I am that name, you can..

...absolutely..

..undeniably..

..inexplicably..

..fucking rely on, week in, week out, to fuck up some asshole by now!

I am Bobby Bourbon.

And I welcome, all of you, to the XWF.

I hope, beyond hope, you brag about how you lasted longer in a battle royal than I do.

I suck in these.

But I’m the nastiest prick out of us XWF thistles that could scratch you.

Face me?

Not tonight!

I’m annihilating the Mystery Entrant.

That person, who, at best, is a Fisher Price people person, round pegged bottom smiling about it with, possibly, a green cowboy hat!

Bobby smiles and gives a thumbs up.

Sorry, just called ALL the bottoms out, but now’s your time to shine!

Heh.

Some of y’all motherfuckers treat this business like a dating website for fuck’s sake.

I’m going to take this Mystery Entrant and give it the ol’ Scooby Doo.

Ruh, roh!

I found the ghoul me and the Mystery Machine turned around for, let’s go!

Think you’ll slink on into this here federation without consternation, oh no!

I’m gunning you down regardless of how many years you’ve been pro!

Welcome to the XWF, or welcome back, or welcome to the game.

Whoever you are, to me, to us, to them it’s all the fucking same.

You’re shrouded all because for some reason you have a shame.

Fuck whoever you are, you’re too chickenshit to share your name.

I come across crass, out of class, nasty and all sorts of mean.

If your name crosses my lips there’s no way it could come out clean!

In this place I’m the boss, call my ass Bruce Motherfucking Springstein!

On behalf of this Xtreme Wrestling Federation I’m their destructive machine!

Bottom feeder, you’re a catfish, slurping on whatever you taste.

You only taste as good as some other fishes waste.

I’ma ground you, then grind you, then pummel you to paste.

And for the people, on your behalf?

I better make haste.

Because the Mystery Entrant is absolute garbage.

They want you to sweat them when you’ve told everybody you were coming.

They want you to worry about them because you aren’t concerned with what people know about you!

They want you to think they’re better than they ever could be if you saw them coming.

And on that note, I’m absolutely eliminating the Mystery Entrant by stabbing the fuck out of them.

I’m Bobby Bourbon.

If you don’t like it, try to stop me.

I’ll immediately consider you are obviously the Mystery Entrant.

And you will be eliminated when I bleed you in front of millions.

I will find something to stab anyone with.

I will destroy the Australian announce table to pick up a shard of wood to stab the Mystery Entrant after I Bobbybomb that worthless, grimy, silly shit through it.

I really am only here to beat the everloving shit out of the Mystery Entrant.

Theo Pryce…

..I get you wanted to give this competitor a chance..

..I think you knew what you were getting into with a match that already has all of my, well, prodigal brothers, and my strongest rivals, and a bevy of people just come to an XWF ring!

I’m going to fuck up the Mystery Entrant.

They’re getting absolutely clobbered on the outset, and I will eliminate them while eliminating myself if I have to..

Wanna be bougie bitch.

I could go to any company, and not a single one would say “oh yeah, be a mystery entrant”.

Seriously, any one, name one.

If I went there, immediate headlines.

Fuck, bitches, if I get drafted into the Wit Trials, I could phone it in but still have generated more hype than some of you fuckers will try with!

Because…

Me..

I don’t try.

Look around.

Some people study the bible.

If you’re worth a damn, study my ass for the First Blood at Free For All.

I’m not the elephant in the room, I’m not some eight hundred pound gorilla, I’m absolutely not a lion, king of some jungle, I’m not the world serpent, the turtle the flat earth sits on, nor the biggest of party animals.

Welcome to the sea.

Us sharks were born swimming.

Drown.

Flounder.

Fight the current.

Dive deep.

Be shallow.

All I see is a feeding frenzy and there’s blood in the water.

That blood belongs to the Mystery Entrant.

Specifically, called out, hammered the fuck down, as fire as all that shit I just said was, it’s not going to Dickie Watson.

Poor fool hangs out with Fuzz, and if they don’t anymore, they did, which, still, ew.

There’s Sebastian Everett Bryce, who has a name more fake sounding than Thunder Knuckles, Hawaiian Hardhead, or A Literal Gorilla.

Theo Pryce did you start marketing to the dollar stores?

Enigma?

Bruh, fight you later!

Seriously, you look cool as fuck and like you don’t give one either.

Cypher is a basic ass bitch who is alarmed by bullshit.

I bring bullshit.

Be fucking alarmed.

Matt Knocked them up, so I’ve heard, but nobody cares how deadbeat a dad you are.

Slade Durant is the guy who killed Jeffrey Epstein, go read the logs it makes sense.

Mark Cross is the guy most of us remember as ‘that dude we stole the date from at Homecoming’.

Corey Black subscribes to my OnlyFans.

Joe Montouri?

Hahahahahahahahahaha.

The joke is professional wrestling when he’s the punchline.

Shazz Nasty…

…cool fucking name.

Good luck.

Johnny Bacchus?

Again…

Good fucking luck dude.

I’ll fuck people up for you.

Kaya Parker!

Your brother Sean has a ton of promise!

David Barker!

Hy-uuuuge fan.

Not gunning for you.

Spencer Adams?

Welcome to the show.

All of them, my other opponents, do I need to destroy them?

Nah, they’re definitely welcome to the bigs.

But fuck the Mystery Entrant.

I’ma whoop your ass so bad your mama is going to call mine about it.

And my mama is going to remind yours I’m a grown ass man.

My mama gonna tell yours that it isn’t her fault you ain’t.

I’m selling tickets to this show.

I sell tickets to every show.

You know you can’t.

So to sell tickets, your name became Mystery Entrant.

That’s the ONLY way you’re in this match.

Seriously, look at Dick Drizzle, the pee joke, he didn’t hide his name.

So you’re more embarrassing than a pee joke.

You’re below Dick Drizzle.

The fasten seatbelts light comes on.

=====

Bouncy Brickhouse, Bobby's romantic interest and international woman of mystery, stands casually in a convenience store. She's dressed to kill, almost like Jessica Rabbit come to life. Bobby walks in, wearing his loudest floral print metallic green blazer with a periwinkle shirt and a pair of grey slacks. The cashier at the convenience store stares at the both of them, two characters in their basic gas station.

Hiya, handsome!

Hey!

Bobby walks up and embraces Bouncy, she nearly his height in her heels, and they simply hug. The signs of contentment wash over Bobby as they step away and ogle one another.

So, do you have the stuff?

Of course, I told you the plan, it's all out in the car.

Sweet.

Do you want something to drink?

Nah, I'm good, I had airplane bottled water.

Cool.

Bobby allows his ladyfriend to lead the way as the cashier is recording Bobby and Bouncy on their phone. Bobby stares at Bouncy's hips as his hand slowly rises to flip the bird to the cashier.

That's rude.

Get rot.

Bobby and Bouncy approach a sleek sedan. Bouncy opens the trunk of the car, and within, we see dozens of cans of copper spraypaint. She closes the trunk and gets into the passenger seat of the vehicle.

You drive!

Okay.

Bobby gets into the car and starts it. He drives away, a sign on the road saying "Welcome to Eagle Pass". Bobby drives along with Bouncy to Shelby Park, where Texas officials have prevented federal agents from removing razor wire. Bobby parks and hands Bouncy a bracelet.

Oh, neat, what is it?

It's a bracelet.

I know, what does it do though?

Well, it's a Refraction Field Generator.

What the hell is that?

It's a personal stealth device, people can't see you.

Like in Predator?

No, that's alien technology, I practice super science, totally different animal.

I see.

Bouncy puts the bracelet on, and seems to vanish.

Oh, cool!

Right?

Bobby puts his bracelet on. He and Bouncy both exit the vehicle, and open the trunk. They each grab a can of copper paint which also vanishes once in their grasp. They walk down to the park and begin spray painting all of the razor wire copper.

You know, It's weird that I can't see you right now, but I missed you.

Hah, I bet, but you know how it goes in our life, sweetie, sometimes I have to be in Prague while you're in Charlotte, North Carolina.

Right, I know, but, I dunno...

..I guess what I'm saying is I appreciate you very much, Bouncy.

You're important to me.

Thank you.

Bobby and Bouncy proceed to paint all the spools of razor wire on the site copper under the cover of night and being practically invisible. Once the final cans have been spent, and disposed of properly, Bobby and Bouncy take their bracelets off and sit on the hood of Bouncy's sedan.

So what do you got going on next week?

Oh, well, I'm stealing Ayer's Rock for Carmen Sandiego on Wednesday.

Oooh, spoilers!

Bouncy smiles while blushing.

...fine, we're hiding it under the Nazca Plains!

Fucking awesome.

In the distance, what sounds like a tornado, or a riot, or some other unseen cacaphony erupts.

Ooh, that was faster than I thought!

Hey, they think the drug pandemic is coming from the south, that's on them.

A throng of meth addicts all rush Shelby Park, that sweet sweet copper just theirs for the taking and pawning. The Texas officials seem completely overwhelmed and taken by surprise at the sight of thousands of midwestern meth heads rush them. Bobby leans in close to Bouncy, who glances back at him, and he kisses her gently on the lips, their moment undeterred as swaths of bonafide American drug friends steal copper.