Believe us, we're Bastards

[Bobby Bourbon]

We see Bobby and TK standing in the now demolished offices of Bastard Headquarters, thanks to two pesky half-lizards with dangerous cocks. Bobby is looking around and scratching his head as TK looks half-dazed from the happenings. The happenings being at the very least a twelve-pack of Bud Light by now.

Well, that wall is ruined, and you kinda pissed all over the floor in here too, bro.

Goddamn right.

Fuck. How do we follow that shit up?

We don’t.

No, no, we do, I promise. First, though, let’s clean up the entire mess we left in this place. You, get up!

Bobby points at the very dead half-lizard on the floor, its blood just oozing all over the carpet.

Stop bleeding all over the place!

It’s all it can do.

Bobby gets up and grabs a roll of paper towels. He tosses it at the dead half-lizard.

We have interns or something to clean this up, yeah? Like, what’s Jimmy doing, he can’t be too busy.

Mr. BOB can get rid of it like he has all the other bodies.

Woah, hold the phone, you’ve been making bodies without me?

What do you think happens to all the tag teams we beat?

I don’t fucking pay attention, they’re already done, meat served and out the window. Look, if we have a cool murder dungeon slash maze around here and nobody let me in on it, bro, I tried that shit for the first time last week, and Woah, let me tell you, nothing more fun. Mr. BOB!

We see Mr. BOB walking down the hall through the huge gaping hole in the wall left by a half-lizard. Mr. BOB opens the door and gently closes it behind him.

Where’s the murder maze?

I do not understand.

Clean up this mess.

Mr. BOB sets to work cleaning up the trashed Bastard Headquarters. He pulls out a vacuum cleaner and turns it on, letting it lazily bump into the head of the dead half-lizard over and over again.

Look, let’s blow this popsicle stand. We gotta go convert a nonbeliever.

Sounds fucking cool!

Bobby and TK walk out through the hole in the wall and into the hall. The camera follows along behind them, the art on the walls all glorious artistic renditions of Bobby, TK, the Nickleman, Crash, and Ozzy, all lovingly crafted by those who follow the will of the Bastard. Them No Good Bastards stop at a set of elevator doors. Bobby presses the button to summon a car. With a swift ding, the doors open, and both men enter. TK hits a button that simply says “ROOF”.

Where is the poor soul?

DC.

Gotcha, so like an hour away.

A chime is heard in the elevator car, and the doors open. Bobby and TK step out and get into an Apache Assault Helicopter.

It’s cool we got this for winning the IIW Tag Team Championships.

Yeah, well, next thing we’re getting is our own murder maze that we trap people in.

What has gotten into you?

I got that murder maze craze.

I guess… It's better than a murder house.

Bobby and TK continue their conversation while putting on their flight helmets. TK gets into the gunner’s seat, Bobby takes the flight controls. In moments, they take off, and we see the glorious New York skyline as the Bastards Apache takes flight from atop Radio City Music Hall. The massive yet agile craft keels and starts to make its way southbound. The next moment, it would seem, we see the helicopter passing the Washington Monument. The helicopter descends and lands on the Georgetown waterfront. Bobby and TK climb out of the helicopter and doff the helmets, leaving them in their seats. They changed mid-flight as well. They appear to be dressed as Catholic priests and begin to walk away from the helicopter and the Potomac. A DC Metro cop approaches.

Woah, Woah, Woah! You can’t park that there!

We have a permit.

Bobby and TK each hold up their half of the OCW Tag Team Championships along with their half of the IIW Tag Team Championships.

Oh, I didn’t know it was you!

Fuck off unless you want to tell me where the hookers meet.

The police officer, both excited as hell to meet the greatest tag team in history and terrified of their reputation, runs off. Bobby and TK, who never even broke pace while talking back at the police officer, cross the street and find themselves at the base of a very long and steep staircase.

Shit, are these the Exorcist stairs?

Yeah, dude.

It smells like goddamn weed here!

It always does.

Bobby is actively smoking a joint as he says this. He passes it to TK. They begin to walk up the stairs.

So who are we converting?

A young girl named Regan.

TK puts on a big floppy fedora. He passes the joint back to Bobby.

She doesn’t believe.

She will.

As if out of nowhere TK puts on a brown trench coat.

This is a long ass staircase.

Yeah, yeah it is.

Bobby and TK finally reach the top of the steps, their joint finished. The street is full of students from Georgetown University, who all stop and behold the two titans before them dressed in frocks, stoned out of their eyeballs, with a tag team championship belt on each shoulder.

Holy shit, it’s Them No Good Bastards!

My mom is going to cum so hard when I tell her!

TK and Bobby look absolutely disgusted at the utterance.

Ew.

Yeah, no fucking bueno there.

Give me your mom’s number.

The kid looks overjoyed, some nineteen and naive, and bounds over to Bobby. Bobby pulls his phone out.

Go ahead.

Jesus Christ, Bobby.

What, mom’s a fan, she knows who we are.

Bobby collects the phone number from the youth. Afterward, the kid runs back to hang out with her collegiate pals.

Which house is it?

Hold on.

Bobby has his phone against his head.

Hi, I just met your child that goes to Georgetown, I’m Bobby Bourbon.

We hear a loud series of moans come out of Bobby’s phone. Bobby’s eyes slightly widen as a cheeky smug smile creeps past his beard.

Fucks sake, Bobby, stop thinking with your dick for a minute.

Never.

Fair. But still.

You’re right. Shit to do.

Bobby holds the phone up to his head.

I’ll call you back, girl.

Bobby hangs up. He and TK walk into a house. A woman with a bad haircut is standing there wearing very frilly lace pajamas that look almost like a marching band uniform.

Oh, thank the Bastard you’ve arrived!

Where is she, and more importantly, where is dad?

Bobby!

Milf meat, sweet treat.

The woman blushes.

She’s upstairs in her room.

Cool. TK go up there and knock this out, I’m going to knock the bottom out of this chick in the goofy pajamas.

Oh, well, I haven’t waxed.

I’m fucking savage.

Yeah, you are, and that’s why you’re coming along.

Bobby takes a short breath. He looks at the lady.

Let me, uh, go sort this out with my brother.

Yeah, wax or some shit.

Bobby and TK start walking up the stairs.

Thanks, man, you’re right. I’m being a total whore.

Nah, that’s good and all, but we got shit to do. I should be fucking some strippers but we have to get this shit done.

Fair. You go to the strip club after this, I’ll go to a craft or book store and…

You’re weird, that’s not where you meet women. Not real ones.

Right. You’re right.

As they reach the top of the stairs, they walk along a banister to the last door on the right. They enter and see a girl, probably around 19, playing with a TLS and a Pic action figure. She looks up at the Bastards and frowns.

Pic and TLS are cooler than you!



Bullshit! I will make a sibling for you that will whoop your ass!

Pic and TLS fucking suck as a team.

Pic and TLS are interesting because they’re inevitably going to come to blows and they won the Margarita Mixer!

Bobby purses his lips and glances at TK.

Pic and TLS are not Bastards! Sure, they pinned me but my partner was Dolly goddamn Waters. Now, I have the best tag team partner in the world. The only Bobby that matters. THE Bobby Bourbon. If you were with me in the mix, you’d have made that easy save. Dolly just can’t get shit done.

I know!

See!

Bobby and TK look at each other, knowing what they have to do. TK pulls a tome from his trench coat and sets it down on the table beside the young girl’s bed. The book is black leather, and in golden leaf etchings, we see the title. The Book of Bastard. TK opens it to a marked place within. Bobby pulls a urine collection cup labeled “TK’s Holy Piss” out of a bag.

Bro.

Sprinkle it on her!

I’m into some weird shit, but sprinkling your piss on a young lady it isn’t.

It’s a holy ritual.

I know, but I’m not even sprinkling my own piss on this girl.

Fine.

TK takes the cup and opens it. He throws urine in the face of the girl.

I say unto thee my Bastard father that this body will not hold such contempt for the Bastard!

Bobby and TK both kneel, looking at the rightly flabbergasted and wet girl.

Thy will is thy bidding and this body will not reject your spirit and guidance, o Bastard father deliver this soul from misunderstanding the Bastard.

TLS and Pic are better!

TK, we’re going to need more piss.

This is not sexually gratifying, this is the will of the Bastardly Father.

TK unzips his pants and waits for a moment.

Um… How about you both don’t look at me? I’m having a bit of stage fright. Like... If just one of you could look away. I can probably pull his off.

Man, like I said, I am into some freaky shit, but this just ain’t it. If you want I could go back downstairs and unzip my pants too.

What?

Yeah, has your mom told you about the birds and the bees?

Christ, Bobby, my doing this for the Bastard Above, you’re unzipping to plant the Bastard seed, big difference.

Quiet, it’s a Bastard ritual, the seed won’t spawn where I leave it, and put your dick back in your pants if you’re not going to use it.

At that moment a golden stream starts flowing from TK’s cock.

HA! Praise him!

TK urinates on the girl. Bobby and TK begin to chant in unison.

The power of the Bastard compels you!

The power of the Bastard compels you!

BTH: The power of the Bastard compels you! The power of the Bastard compels you! The power of the Bastard compels you!

ALRIGHT!

She screams.

I have a watersports kink!

Alright, I’m going back downstairs, this is officially a party.

TK buries his head into his hand and shakes his head.

We have to continue the ritual! Wait… did we? Bitch, you alright?

Yes! Pic and TLS suck and I liked them because I thought if any team in the world liked the thought of having a man pee onto their face, it would be them.

Well damn! Sounds like someone has seen the shade we cast! So, Pic, and fuck your parents for naming you that, they sound like meth addicts on heroin. Pic, I heard what you had to say about my absolute Bastard brethren, all ‘boo-hoo I got beat up’. Bruh, I didn’t see TLS anywhere near that arena to have your back, and if I was there, shit, there ain’t no fucking way you’d be cleared to compete tonight. You think you’re a cut above? You think you’re something kind of special in this business? I have stomped the cut above and destroyed special my whole life, so when you say you have your sights set on TK, man up and defend the fucking belt, don’t kowtow to this malarkey thinking he needs to prove something, because son, the only thing more dangerous than this Bastard beside me is both of Us No Good Bastards staring back at you.

Fuck yeah! When you talk about the tag team division, you’re fucking with real showstappas, and the only end result is Them No Good Bastards are dispatching souls. They can try to PIC the lock but there’s no combination OCW can come up with to crack this code. I won't oversell it but they’re coming in with small packages, while we carry weight in the tag team world. The Rainbow Laser Death Sequence is no joke but it will be funny watching two very strong, capable, singles stars meet their demise to the greatest tag team to ever team in the history of tagging. I’d mention TLS’s contract but I’m sure that's what they’ll be talking about.

Bobby stands up and smiles. He looks back at the girl.

Happy to help.

The way of the Bastard is the way of greatness without shame.

Pretty much.

TK puts his junk back into his pants. As he does, we see Bobby walking towards the bedroom door.

Seriously?

Oh, nothing serious, it’ll be fun.

Bobby looks at the girl.

So, kiddo, is your mom a screamer or what?