Bobby is seated at his desk in his office in the Bobby Bourbon Dojo for the Competitive Arts. He's watching a wall mounted television, and is joined by Cyberjaw. On the screen is Schism’s latest promo.

I thought you were in the Revolution.

I am.

Do they know that? You weren't with them at May Day.

Bobby drums his hands on his desk. He stands up and leaves, allowing Schism’s promo to continue. Cyberjaw follows him.

I destroyed the BastardNet studio for those guys.

Sure, I used the insurance money to completely remodel and make everything state-of-the-art.

Sure, I used Ozzy's money to open a coffee shop for Schism, and continue to syphon money from him to keep it afloat.

Even if I'm using the coffee shop to launder money too.

Wait, you're defrauding Ozzy when you have enough of your own money that you need to hide in a paper trail?

Work smarter, not harder.

Bobby approaches the kitchens in the dojo. They're quiet, the culinary students gone home in the evening. The Dunkin Donuts is nigh barren. Mr. Oz is using the ring to teach his students more about wrestling. The rage yoga studio is empty. Bobby cuts on a gas powered grill. The glow of flame illuminates an otherwise dark space as Bobby reaches above him, turning on the industrial vents designed to draw excess natural gas and smoke. Bobby turns to a refrigerator and opens it.

What are you making?

A cheeseburger. Pimento beer cheese, fried green tomato, Apple cider vinegar pickles, Alabama Comeback sauce.

I don't like pimento cheese.

Bobby pulls a few items from the fridge. A pair of quart containers, a larger 5 quart square plastic container with pickles floating inside, and a beef patty wrapped in plastic. He sets them all down on a nearby stainless steel table. He looks at Cyberjaw.

Well I'm not making you one.

Bobby walks to an upright freezer and retrieves a tray loaded with battered tomatoes, as labelled, and tosses one into a nearby fryer.

Someone left the fryer on.

I turned it on an hour ago, I was thinking wings.

Oh.

Cyberjaw remembers an hour ago, when Bobby said he was making wings for the both of them. Bobby puts the tray of prepped fried green tomatoes back into the freezer. Bobby pivots and unwraps the beef patty. Bobby grabs a nearby container of a salt and pepper blend and seasons the hell out of the patty. He then tosses it on the grill then washes his hands. He reaches under the table and retrieves a bun.

Man, I'm hungry.

Bobby glances up at Cyberjaw, remembering an hour ago when he said he'd make Cyberjaw dinner. Bobby turns back to the refrigerator and opens it. He pulls out a New York Strip, also wrapped in plastic and a date written on it.

They cut these today. Medium Well?

Always.

Bobby unwraps the beautiful cut of beef and in turn seasons the fuck out of it with salt and pepper. He turns and grabs garlic powder, chipotle powder, and rosemary, sprinkling less and less spice by spice on the steak. Bobby spins, grabbing a spatula in a fluorish, and flips the burger patty. He pulls basket containing the fried green tomato from the fryer. He opens the fridge and reaches in, retrieving a single slice of cheese and putting it atop his burger. He turns and feels the steak, noting if it's too cold to grill yet. He nods confidently and places the steak on the grill before opening the freezer and retrieving a small portion bag of french fries. Bobby closes the freezer, pulls the fried green tomato from the basket, and opens the bag and dumps the six or so ounces of french fries into the basket. Bobby places the fried tomato onto a plate then turns and places the bun on the grill to get warm and crispy.

I don't know if the Revolution wants me around anymore. I haven't heard from Schism in forever, Flynn never told me about the master stroke at May Day, and from the looks of things they just replaced me with Dolly.

Well, do you want them?

Bobby, his back still to Cyberjaw and the camera, watches meat sizzle on a grill.

Kinda, I felt like I was doing something important. Bigger than me.

Bobby pulls the bun from the grill and places it on his place, open and ready to he used in the creation of a burger. Bobby reaches over and drops the fries into the oil. He uses his spatula and pulls the burger off of the grill and lays it on the bun. He places a fried green tomato in top of the melted cheese, then opens a quart container. He reaches onto a shelf and retrieves a scoop, and scoops a bit of pimento cheese atop the fried green tomato, spreading it around atop it. Bobby opens his container of pickles, turns, grabs tongs, and adjusts the steak on the gril, rotating it slightly to give it diamonds. More specifically, he gave it more char flavor. Bobby turns and places a few pickles atop the pimento cheese, then closes his pickle container. Bobby opens the other quart container and drizzles the pinkish sauce atop the pickles. Bobby puts his ingredients away, save the comeback sauce.

What does TK think about you being in the Revolution?

I don't think he understands.

He doesn't like the socialism aspect?

No, I don't think he gets I formed an alliance with Schism and Flynn. He was constantly baffled by our hanging out, and I explicitly explained the situation but I think he got bored or just zoned out.

Bobby turns and flips the steak.

Well what if TK goes corporate?

Bobby shrugs. He was too focused on the steak for his friend to consider that, let alone the burger he made for himself.